Reborn_Age Of Magic_A Kurtherian Gambit Series

by CM Raymond

  Parker watched with wide eyes. “Maybe I should learn magic,” he whispered.

  “Nah, those fancy gymnastics of yours do just fine. And besides, I’d hate for you to feel inferior to your girlfriend.” Hannah leaned in and gave him a kiss. “Let’s go.”

  They broke into a brisk walk behind Laurel, who commanded the trees in their work.

  “You’re sure about this, right?” Parker asked.

  “Surer than almost anything,” she replied.

  “Almost?”

  “Well,” she looked him up and down, “not nearly as sure as I am about how hot you are, but you have an unfair advantage.”

  They caught up with Laurel just as the trees lowered the Skrim to the ground, and she dropped to one knee, exhausted from the sustained casting. Breathing heavily, she looked up at them. “All right, the rest is up to you.” She pointed at the beast. “And that bitch is heavy.”

  Hannah laughed. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  Parker narrowed his eyes. “Save your strength. I’ll get—”

  Hannah whistled, and the sound of flapping wings came from above the trees. Sal roared as he sailed in a circle and landed a few feet away. He trotted over to them, taking a second to sniff the Skrim’s body and give it a little shove with his snout before taking his place next to Hannah.

  “All right, you oversized lizard, we need your help getting this thing up to the caverns, and it needs to be delivered in one piece.”

  Sal looked at the Skrim, his beady black eyes blinking in disbelief. Sal was strong, but the Skrim was massive—one of the biggest they had seen.

  Parker laughed. “Too much for ya, Sal?”

  The dragon stamped a foot on the ground and walked around the trussed beast, sizing it up, and then looked at the distance between him and the mountain.

  Hannah pulled her leather bag off her back and reached in. “I think I have something that will help.”

  She pulled out a small canteen and Laurel squealed, “Kaffe!”

  “Yeah, I was holding on to it for safekeeping.” Hannah turned to her dragon, who was already sitting up on his hind legs like a dog begging for a bone. “Only a bit, you little kaffe addict. And no free thrills—you gotta take this brute all the way up.” She pointed at the Skrim.

  Sal dropped to all fours and spun in circles, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Parker said.

  “Desperate times…” Hannah uncorked the canteen and tilted it gently, spilling a splash into Sal’s mouth. “Yech—dragon breath!”

  Sal’s tongue lashed out to grab the canteen, and with a jerk of his head he pulled it from Hannah’s grasp and swallowed it whole.

  He leapt into the air and batted his wings erratically.

  “Shit,” Laurel exclaimed. “That may come back to bite us in the ass.”

  “Sal,” Hannah yelled, her eyes narrowed, “get to work or you’ll never taste it again!”

  Sal’s scaly body made a sharp right turn in mid-air and dropped toward the Skrim. Without landing, he grabbed the monster in his talons and lifted it into the air. After a quick, playful, spin, Sal turned toward the mountain and sped off into the distance.

  “It worked,” Parker cried.

  “I do make one hell of a pot of kaffe,” Laurel said modestly.

  Hannah nodded. “Let’s just hope it wears off before Sal accidentally kills us all.” She slapped Parker on the back. “You’ve got to get back to work. Laurel, let’s go. We need to get that bad boy to Lilith ASAP.”

  ****

  The room was silent save the gentle hum from the metal box that housed Lilith. Hadley sat nearby in the only chair in the room. Head tilted to lean against the high back, he tried to empty his mind of the events that had transpired since his terrifying encounter with Laughter, but he couldn’t shake it.

  He let out a deep breath and stood to pace the room, hoping that stretching his legs might afford some distraction.

  It’s not your fault. Lilith’s voice rang in his head. It was no longer faint or weak, degraded by the malfunctioning hardware. Unencumbered by the technology, her communication was strong in his mind.

  Hadley spun toward the box, suddenly aware of how odd it was that they all felt the need to address the hardware that held her. “I’d love to believe you, darling, but I’m thinking that maybe for the first time in the history of forever the brilliant Kurtherian might actually be wrong.”

  Unlikely, she replied, with no hint of humor in the words. Doubt if you must, but it will only be to your detriment in the end. With Laughter on the horizon, we are going to need every capable magician we have on hand. And as you know all too well, doubt is the seed of ruin.

  He laughed. “Sounds like something Ezekiel would say.”

  I taught him everything he knows—well, almost everything—so that would not be too far out of the question. But we are talking about you.

  “Yeah. My favorite subject.”

  You must understand, mystic, that you were beaten by one much stronger than any you have ever faced. If I were to have calculated the odds of you surviving a direct encounter with my old colleague, they would not have been in your favor.

  “Is that right? I’d put that in the category of things you should have told me yesterday.” He laughed. “Just how bad were these odds?”

  Lilith went silent in his mind, and Hadley realized that she had taken the question quite literally. She was running the computation.

  Given the known factors I have access to and taking into consideration the data I have on not only you and your kind but my modest projection of the growth of Laughter’s abilities since I was last with her, I would have put the odds at 3,562 to one.

  “So you’re saying I had a chance.” He laughed again, but he was also cursing Ezekiel in his head for putting him into the situation.

  Yes. When there is a willing party, there is always a chance, but how do you people say it? She paused. You had a snowball’s chance in the netherworld.

  “’In hell,’ Lilith. It’s ‘A snowball’s chance in hell,’ and thanks for that. Now I know that not only am I charming, I’m also one lucky sonofabitch.”

  You humans and your “luck” have always confounded to me. Luck, chance, fortune, serendipity, and the other approximately twenty-three synonyms in your native tongue are always only the factors that work in your favor, while the factors against do not.

  “Well, I guess I can throw out my rabbit’s foot, then,” Hadley quipped.

  What does a rabbit have to do with this?

  Hadley laughed, realizing there were some things about their world that Lilith was not aware of. “Nothing,” he answered. “It’s just another silly human thing.”

  Ah, well, there are enough of those to fill my brain for half a lifetime. Don’t get me wrong, mystic—the perception of luck can in fact play a role. It gives answers for things you cannot understand, and chance fills in the spaces where the extent of your reason finds limitations. The illusion of luck can make a coward brave or a weak man strong, but luck had nothing to do with your encounter with Laughter.

  “So you’re saying I’m better than you thought?”

  I’m saying that the factors worked to your advantage, but nevertheless I now know more about you than I did before. My calculations can be more accurate. The odds are better than I once thought.

  “That’s a relief,” Hadley replied, sitting back down in the chair. “I still almost killed one of my best friends. Luckily for Gregory, Hannah showed up when she did.”

  As I was saying…

  “I know, Lilith. I was just messing with you.”

  It was quiet for a moment. You were being what Hannah calls a “douche nugget.”

  Hadley’s mouth turned up in a smile. “Yeah, that was exactly what I was being.”

  Hadley, you should rest, but you need to know one more thing.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  You’re no
t only stronger than I first assumed, but you’re also stronger than you think. To stand against Laughter and come out on the other side was a testament to your strength.

  “Good to know.” Hadley leaned his head back against the chair, closed his eyes, and let out a long intentional breath. While he worked to slow his breathing, he considered her words and tried to let them sink in, to change him. Although he remained confused about what exactly had happened to him, he knew one thing. Given the chance to face her he would do it all again, only this time he would do whatever was necessary to turn the odds in his favor.

  His mind was just starting to clear when the door flew open with a bang and interrupted his meditation.

  “Stop lying around and give us a hand,” Laurel yelled.

  Hadley jumped to his feet and ran to the door. Just outside, taking up nearly all the space in the hall, was a gigantic bipedal Skrim, knocked out cold and snoring louder than Sal with a full belly.

  “Damn, he’s ugly,” Hadley croaked. “Poor Lilith isn’t going to be much of a looker in the future, is she?”

  Hannah, standing over the body, shook her head. “I think I’ll be able to take care of that. She might just be attractive enough to make you look at something other than your own image in the mirror. Now help us get this bastard in.”

  With much twisting, turning, and swearing they manipulated the Skrim’s body through the door into the room. Hadley dropped its shoulders last, which caused its head to land with a thud.

  He smirked and cocked his head. “Hope I didn’t damage your future data center, Lilith.”

  Before she could answer, a cacophonous explosion echoed down the hall and they felt the mountain shake around them.

  “What the hell was that?” Hadley said, eyes toward the door.

  “I’m hoping it was Zeke,” Hannah answered. “A shit-ton of flying Skrima were circling the mouth of the cavern, and he said he’d take care of them. From the sounds of things, I’m betting he did.”

  Ezekiel rushed into the room. “A magician does as a magician says!”

  Hadley looked at him. “How exactly did said magician do said act?”

  “I did what was needed: a little explosion at the entrance.”

  Hadley laughed. “You call it an entrance, I called it an exit.”

  “We’ll take care of that later,” Hannah said. She looked at Ezekiel. “You bought us some time, so let’s not waste it. Time to get to work.”

  They all stood in silence for what felt like forever, but finally Laurel raised her hand. Not waiting to be called on by anyone in particular, she said, “Yeah, so, um... Can I ask a stupid question?” No one responded. “What exactly is this master plan, anyway?”

  All eyes turned to Hannah.

  “Remember when we were on the beach in Baseek? You know, when the marauders were all bearing down on us and it seemed like all was lost?” She paused, and everyone nodded.

  “Yeah,” Laurel said. “We made that freak-ass giant that kicked their ass. Pretty cool, but that thing was only temporary. I mean, we all needed to keep casting to sustain it. If we had stopped, Mr. Sandman would have disintegrated and been pulled out with the tide.”

  “Exactly,” Hannah replied, “but this time we won’t be sustaining it. That thing was lifelike, but not alive. It didn’t have a mind of its own, and it certainly didn’t have a soul. This time it will be different.” Hannah glanced at Lilith and swallowed hard.

  “By the gods,” Laurel said. “Is that even possible?”

  Ezekiel cleared his throat and stepped forward. “In theory, it is—”

  “Yes,” Hannah interrupted, “and we’re going make this shit happen. Lilith has been defending this world for centuries. Hell, if it weren’t for her we wouldn’t have any power at all. We’d probably all be Mad. Her penance in these caves is over, and as citizens of Irth, it’s time we set her free.” She stopped and her eyes traveled to each person in the room as they nodded in assent, even Ezekiel. “Here’s the plan.”

  They all leaned in and listened intently as Hannah explained. Each had a role as crucial as the next.

  “Hadley, I need you to cast an image like you’re telling a story, but this image won’t be of a hillside village or children in jeopardy. It is of the body we’re going to make for Lilith.”

  “I have the golden proportions already in mind,” he replied.

  Hannah rolled her eyes, but continued, “Laurel, I know this is a little outside your wheelhouse, but knowing what we know about nature magic, it should work. You need to funnel all your energy toward the Skrim. Concentrate on that, and only that.”

  “And what are you going to do?” Hadley asked her.

  Hannah chuckled, more to herself than for anyone else. “That’s the tricky part. I’d explain it if I knew the words that could describe my role. In short, my job is to cram the Skrim, which has the possibility of change, from Laurel’s magic into Hadley’s image.”

  “You’re the catalyst,” Laurel shouted.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I’m the spark who is going to light the fire.”

  They all looked at Ezekiel, wondering what his role in this fool’s errand was.

  “Yeah…” Hannah said, voice trailing off, then she added, “And Zeke here has the most important role.”

  “But not the hardest,” he said, drawing dagger-eyes from Hannah.

  “He’ll transfer Lilith’s essence from the box into the form we created,” Hannah said. It looked like she wanted to give them more, but from the change of her countenance everyone in the room knew that language had met its limit and she wouldn’t be able to explain any further.

  Lilith’s small mechanical voice spoke into the thick silence. “I am honored to have you attempt my rescue. You are the best and the boldest Irth has seen since my arrival a millennium ago. If this doesn’t work, I will not meet you again on this side of eternity so I will take this chance, perhaps my last, to say that it has been a joy to serve with you. May the Matriarch bless every work of your hand.”

  Stillness filled the room and the tiny hairs stood up on the necks of each of them as they realized the severity of what they were about to attempt and the consequences of possible failure.

  Breaking the tension, Hadley clapped his hands. “All right, then… We have our clay, our artists, and a shit-heap of Skrima on the doorstep. What do ya say we get to work?”

  They all agreed, each glancing at the metal box containing Irth’s brightest entity.

  Hannah’s eyes glazed. “No, Lilith, it has been our honor,” she said. And with a blink, two tears streamed down her cheeks.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Hold it still, ye daft animal!”

  Olaf was fully bear, and he was wrestling a particularly large Skrim-dog to the ground. The thing was snapping with rage, tearing at Olaf’s furry skin.

  Karl was trying to help, but he didn’t want to accidentally crush his friend in the process. He didn’t know if Olaf could understand him when he was in his Were form, but the large bear managed to pin the Skrim to the ground belly first.

  The rearick stepped closer and swung his hammer in a wide arc, and the thing’s head snapped to the side, then flopped to the ground.

  Bear-Olaf grunted, then shuddered as he turned slowly back into a human.

  The man stood tall. He was covered in sweat and blood, but he looked like he was enjoying the battle.

  Karl caught a glimpse of his manhood and looked away awkwardly.

  “Hey, watch where yer swingin’ that thing,” he said without looking back. “This is a war zone, not some brothel.”

  Olaf let out a booming laugh as he picked up his axe. “There are a few similarities between lovemaking and war-making. I’ve seen the way you brandish your hammer, so I know you understand.”

  Karl’s eyes went wide and he began to stutter. “What? I dunno what yer... That’s just bloody ridiculous!”

  Olaf laughed again. “Relax, friend—just a little gallows humor. After all,
odds are good we’ll both die here today.”

  Karl cocked his head. “Ye say that with a smile.”

  The big man shrugged. “And why not? There is honor in a good death, and I can think of few things worthier of honor than fighting to defend your homeland. Surely you understand this?”

  Karl looked around at the mess surrounding them. It was nothing like his homeland, but still he felt a kinship to it. Somehow the fighting had taken them far from the city. From where he was standing he could see the Rift and the monsters which were still pouring through.

  ‘Aye, I’m not afraid o’ dyin’. It’s just, there are too many of these Skrima left. I’m not allowed ta die until they’ve all had a taste o’ me hammer. Captain’s orders.”

  “Your Hannah is powerful, there’s no doubting that, but even she can’t order death away.”

  Karl nodded, wondering what they were all doing in the caves. It would have been nice to have some of the heavy hitters at their side now. He looked back at Olaf. “Well, if we die we die, but I’m sure as hell glad ta die fightin’ next to a man such as yerself, strange nudist tendencies an’ all.”

  “You should try it sometime. It’s quite exhilarating.”

  “I’ll take yer word fer it. Besides, there’s enough dicks around here without me addin’ another one. I wouldn’t want ta put ye an’ the other men ta shame.”

  “Fair enough,” Olaf said. He looked toward the Rift, where another wave of Skrima were fighting their way through.

  “Well, breaktime's over.”

  “Aye,” Karl agreed. He lifted his hammer and placed it on his shoulder. “Let’s go live honorably. Besides, if Hannah does choose ta show up and I’m sittin’ here talkin’ instead o’ fightin’, she might just turn ‘er magic on me first.”

  “That’s the spirit,” Olaf said. His body shuddered again, and Karl watched in awe as he turned back into his bear form and charged into the madness.

  “Bloody showoff,” he said as he followed.

  ****

  Despite the battle raging outside, the cave was still and silent.

  You could have heard the proverbial pin drop, and the heartbeats of every person in the room were completely audible.