The Archimage Wars: Wizard of Abal

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The Archimage Wars: Wizard of Abal Page 8

by Philip Blood


  That’s when she decided to kill me.

  She flung the light up, and it hit the ceiling, brightening the entire room. Then she yanked out a long and very sharp poniard and muttered some words I didn’t catch. I had no idea what she’d said, but the result was obvious, some kind of blue energy ran down from her hand to the blade, which now glowed with power.

  She crouched and then approached cautiously, blade extended in a knife fighter’s grip, which meant the glowing blade came out at the base of her hand, not by the thumb.

  I looked toward the exit, and she made a gesture with her free hand, and the open archway was suddenly a solid stone wall as if the open archway had never been there.

  “There is no escape, Sivaeral, meet your end with dignity. Bare your chest and I will grace you with a quick death,” she hissed in a low pitched voice.

  I backed away, trying to stay out of range of her glowing knife, but the room wasn’t very large. I played for time, hoping to think of something, “Listen, Princess, don’t get your panties all in a wad, we don’t really need to fight.”

  “No, but you need to die.”

  I remembered that Stewart had been interested in exchanging names before entering combat, so I said, “Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot, I’m Nick, House Sivaeral, and a Third. And I believe I’m allergic to knife stabbings.”

  “A Third!” she said and her voice hardened, I noticed she became even more wary and cautious in her approach, but now she said, “And what is a Sivaeral Third doing skulking in our portal chamber? Are you waylaying arriving members of my race?”

  “Lurking, not skulking, I was just about to use this portal to go to Abal.”

  That statement made her straighten up a little, though she was still watching me suspiciously, and her knife was still ready. “You are not here to end my line?”

  “No, not a chance,” I said. “And I’d appreciate the same courtesy, honey.”

  “What is honey?” she asked.

  “That sweet sticky stuff we put on toast, you know, bee spit, I believe,” I said absently.

  Do not call me ‘sweet’ or ‘sticky’,” she retorted.

  “Sure, no problem, but in exchange can you put down the butter knife?”

  “And why should I spare you?” she demanded.

  I shrugged, “Because,” and then I paused, what was a good reason to spare me? “Ah, because I was about to go meet my parents, and they would really appreciate a visit, I’m sure, assuming I’m, well, intact. Who, may I ask, are you?”

  She lifted her head, and then spoke proudly, “I am Myrka Tarvos, Fourth.”

  “And, since I told you where I was going, can you tell me what you are doing here?” I asked.

  “That is not your concern, Sivaeral!” she answered haughtily, and went back into her crouch, and started closing on me again.

  “Now, just hold on,” I replied and raised my right hand in a warding gesture.

  That caused her to leap to her left, roll over her shoulder and come up to a crouch. Her hand did a half circle gesture in the air, and I crazily thought of some old movie quote, ‘Wax on, wax off’. Then a kind of blue translucent egg-shaped field flared up around her body.

  “Your attack will not get through my shield!” she exclaimed.

  “Keep your knickers on, Tarvos,” I said, starting to get annoyed, and the angrier I got, the less fearful I became. Why the hell was everyone trying to kill me? God DAMN it!

  She replied oddly to my remark, “If you are referring to my undergarment, I do not need to keep them up, they are quite functional as they are.” She was serious.

  “That was a joke,” I noted.

  “A joke?” she replied in disgust as if saying, ‘A rotted fish’.

  “Forget it,” I replied, and then added, “Look, I’m not trying to harm you, I swear.”

  “You swear by your Archimage?” she demanded.

  “I’ll swear by my Archimage, or my dog Spot, if you will stop attacking me!”

  She scowled, “Swear then!”

  I sighed, “OK, I swear by my Archimage, and my dog, Spot, I am not here to harm you, or anyone.”

  Her shield thingy faded out and she straightened. “In that case, I may let you live, we shall see.”

  I raised both eyebrows, now that I was annoyed, I lost what little sense I had, and said, sarcastically, “Well, that’s very big of you.”

  She nodded her head, as it I’d been truly thankful.

  I let it go, and said, “So, back to what I asked earlier, it was a simple question. I just wanted to know why you came to Earth: tourism, hunting, what?”

  She looked at me with those big dark eyes and said, “And I suppose you are willing to tell me what you are up to in Abal?”

  I considered her question, of course, I wouldn’t tell her about seeking the Archimage to recall information I’d stolen from The Dragon, but I could tell her my other reason, so I shrugged, and said, “Sure, as I mentioned, I am going to find my parents.”

  “So why did you not use one of your race’s portals?” she demanded.

  “Well, there were some werewolves cavorting around the moors near Stonehenge,” I replied flippantly, to make her think I knew what was going on. I wasn’t about to tell her about my missing memory.

  “Werewolves!” she said, and her eyes grew wide. “Tell me about them, and why they were there!”

  “Why should I? You don’t seem to be very forthcoming about YOUR business,” I noted.

  She bit her lower lip for a moment in thought, and then said, “I will tell you some of my task if you will answer my question about the werewolves.”

  “All right, you first, Peaches,” I said.

  She looked at me for a moment, I guess trying to gauge if I was lying to her, and if ‘Peaches’ was an insult, and then she replied, “I am here to hunt down the Dark One.”

  “Who, Darth Vader?” I said in jest.

  “No, I do not know this wizard, I am talking about The Dragon!” she answered seriously.

  I recalled this was the person Fiona had been worried about, one of the Archimages, and some kind of Necromancer. He'd sent the gehdrin, and then those zombie necrosoul things. “So, you are going to hunt down The Dragon and kill him, just like that?”

  “No, I do not have the skills to take one with his fell powers. My task is to locate the beast and bring that information to my Archimage. I will find The Dark One, or die trying.”

  That sobered me for a moment.

  She continued, “I have been tracking The Dark One for several years. I followed his trail to Irkalla, and then to Sheol; I believe he briefly returned there.”

  "Isn't that some kind of banned World?"

  She ignored me and said, “If I had only been a little closer, I could have sent word and finished my quest, but he departed Sheol some time ago, and since then the trail has gone cold. I came to Earth following another rumor, one of a secret abode in a place called, Volubilis.”

  I recalled the place, it was some kind of Roman ruins, but I said, “Well, good luck with that, I don’t think anyone has lived in those ruins for a couple thousand years.”

  She scowled at me, and said, “I have very good information.” And then she said, “But, you said there were werewolves near this Stonehenge? Where is this place?”

  “Amesbury, England.”

  “Did you see any other signs?” she demanded.

  “Do you consider zombies as a sign? Hydan called them necrosouls. I was at a pub when some broke in and a Second from House Albus mixed it up with those ugly beasties while Hydan and I got the hell out of Dodge.”

  “I thought you were in Amesbury, England?” she accused.

  “‘Dodge’ is just an expression,” I answered.

  She ignored me and said, “So, you witnessed gehdrin and necrosouls in this Amesbury? How do I get to this place, can you give me an Image?”

  “You know, I barely got away, and only because I had help from two other mages, a S
econd and a Third. I suggest you stay as far away from there as you can.”

  Myrka shook her head and spoke resolutely, “For thousands of years many mages have sought to bring down the Dark One; and all have failed. I will not be put to the inquisitor’s sacrificial knife, like so many of my brethren, for failing in my task!”

  I shook my head sadly, “Look, I saw some strange and quite deadly creatures in that area, so if you go there it’s your funeral."

  Then she cocked her head to the side and said, “I WILL find The Dragon, he was there, seeking you.”

  “Maybe, the truth is I didn't see any boogie man! I don’t believe in Bigfoot, Leprechauns, the Loch Ness monster, or certainly not any kind of dragon. All I said was that we heard some howls, which sounded somewhat like wolves, and then Hydan said they were werewolves. Later on that night, some rotted looking people broke into a pub, and they weren’t hairy at all, more deadish looking, but very spry. I believe in those since a saw them trying to do us harm, and they were still kind of ‘undead’ even after being converted to chickens right before my eyes. However, in all of that craziness, I didn’t see any nasty wizard like foozles, calling themselves The Dragon.”

  Before Myrka could respond the stone wall, which had been an archway opening, turned back into the archway and Hydan strolled into the chamber.

  Myrka spun to face Hydan, her hand coming back up with her glowing knife held ready, and then her other hand came up, palm toward Hydan. From her palm, a lance of power struck at him, but it seemed to warp upwards at the last moment and hit the ceiling. Molten rock poured down, but Hydan just stepped around it. Myrka kept her empty hand up in a warding gesture, but her eyes narrowed at Hydan’s escape from her blast of power.

  “There is no need for sorcery, I’m not here to kill you,” Hydan exclaimed. “That would not be fun at all!”

  “So you only kill for fun?” Myrka asked.

  “I think you are confusing me with a Hentan,” Hydan said. “I am Hydan Friare, Third; we try not to kill at all, if possible.”

  “A Friare weakling,” she sneered, as she took a step back so she could keep us both in view, pointing her palm at Hydan and the blue power coated knife toward me, and then she said, “and yet another Third!”

  I decided to ask Hydan about that later, but I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what was going on, so I held my question.

  I spoke to Hydan, “Why is she so trigger happy?”

  He shrugged, “She’s a Tarvos; they kill first and ask your corpse questions later if there is anything left to ask.”

  Myrka scowled at him for that answer, so Hydan turned back to her and said, “Yes, I’m a Third, I can’t help it.”

  Myrka frowned at him but lowered her knife hand. Then she demanded, “Why do you believe The Dragon was after this Sivaeral Third?”

  She meant me.

  Hydan shrugged, “I’m not sure he was; ask the gehdrin or their Dark Lord.”

  Now she turned her hard gaze on me, “And is this the first time gehdrin have pursued you?”

  I opened my mouth and then snapped it shut, not wanting to play all my cards, but Hydan laughed, “Wow, you need to work on your gambler’s face. Now you’ll have to tell her at least some of it.”

  “Tell me all of it,” she demanded, swiveling her warding hand to kind of cover me like it was a machine gun.

  But his statement had been a warning to me, to withhold some of the details. I thought for a moment, and then said, “I will tell you if you stop threatening us.”

  She stared into my eyes for a moment, and then lowered her hand. The blue glow around the blade vanished, and she sheathed the knife at her belt.

  I nodded, and then said, “There isn’t much to tell. I met Hydan at Stonehenge just as he arrived. We heard werewolves, but if they were after us, they lost our trail. We went into Amesbury and had a drink at a pub, where we met Fiona Albus, a Second. That’s when a passel of these necrosoul things burst in, hell bent on destruction. The Second battled with the creatures and told us the necromancer controlling them was getting near. We fled, but the necrosouls, or their master, tracked us to another location. It was at this point that we portaled to this place; we had decided to move worlds. Now, if there really is a person called The Dragon, who is some kind of Sauron character, and he truly is after me, I don’t have the faintest idea why!”

  There, I’d used a few words I hadn’t heard until today to make it sound like I knew what I was talking about.

  Myrka pondered for a moment, and I caught Hydan giving me a little wink.

  Then Myrka said, “Is this Fiona Albus working with the Dark One?”

  Hydan snorted, “I doubt that! His necrosouls attempted to kill her, and us.”

  So at this point I said to the Tarvos girl, “All right, now it’s your turn, are you seriously tracking this Dark One? What is his real name anyway, this 'Dark One' this 'The Dragon' crap is cumbersome.”

  She straightened her shoulders, and said, “I told you, I will track down the Dark One. The Tarvos never call him by his given name, lest he feels us coming, and I suggest you do this as well. However, I will succeed in tracking down The Dragon where others have failed! I have been close on his trail several times in the past year, and now he has come to Earth! If The Dark One came here to hunt you, I know where I need to be.”

  “What are you talking about?” I demanded.

  Hydan laughed, “You have a girlfriend, Nick. Myrka is going to stick to you like glue, at least until The Dragon shows his horns.”

  Myrka scowled at Hydan but turned to face me. “Do not listen to the Friare, I am not your girl or your friend!” she exclaimed indignantly.

  I nodded, “That’s right, Tarvos, nor do I need some trigger happy killer tagging along who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me, and just wants to find the boogie man, for heaven’s sake!”

  Myrka reminded me, “He is not this 'boogie man' you speak of, he is The Dragon, the onetime Archimage of Sheol, though his title has been stripped from him by the Ring of Ten. I will find him and stop his evil.”

  “That’s all I need, some Christian do-gooder tagging along.”

  Hydan snickered, “That may be the first time a Tarvos has ever been called either a Christian or a do-gooder!”

  At my refusal to let her come with me, Myrka looked concerned and then said, “I must accompany you!”

  “No,” I said, crossing my arms angrily.

  She was hesitant, as if afraid to show weakness, but then she said, “I will be sacrificed if I do not complete my task.”

  “Which is not our problem, Honey” I answered, purposely using this sarcastic endearment which she’d forbade me to call her earlier.

  She looked at my defiant posture, and then said, “If you let me join your group, I swear by my Archimage I will follow your orders.”

  Hydan raised an eyebrow, “Wow, if she swears by her Archimage it’s an oath she cannot break, Nick. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Tarvos swear such an oath to the member of another House.”

  Myrka turned her dark gaze on Hydan, “I am very serious about completing my task, and if The Dragon is pursuing this Third, I must be there when the Dark One reveals himself.”

  “I understand what you want, Sweety,” I replied.

  “I am not sweet, so please do not attempt to consume me,” Myrka replied, deadly serious.

  Hydan laughed, “You may not be sweet, but you are definitely and deliciously a Tarvos.”

  Myrka gave him such a dark look I thought she was going to erupt into violence again.

  I turned to him and said, “Do you really think I should let her join us?”

  He lifted both hands, palms up, and said, “Oh, why not? She is going to follow you if you don’t, and she is going to be so much fun!”

  “She doesn’t seem fun at all, she’s very serious.”

  He grinned, “My point exactly.”

  Then Myrka said, “One more thing; if I join you, may I have you
r permission to kill this useless one?” And she cocked a thumb toward Hydan.

  Hydan looked stunned for a brief moment, and then he burst into outright guffaws. He was pounding his hand into his thigh and laughing so hard he was nearly out of breath. Tears were even streaming down his cheeks.

  I turned to him and said, “This is no laughing matter, I’m pretty sure that was a serious request to kill you.”

  “Oh, she was ‘deadly’ serious,” he said and started almost giggling.

  “You are a very strange person,” I said to Hydan, who half bowed to me while wiping tears of laughter from his face using the back of his sleeve.

  I looked at Myrka, who was sneering at Hydan and patiently waiting for my response. When he had calmed, she repeated her question, “So, may I kill this pathetic Friare Third? You can see how annoying he will be.”

  I replied jokingly, “Yeah, he is annoying, but for now I need him.”

  She shrugged, and then nodded, “I will eagerly await your permission in the future.”

  That made Hydan snicker again.

  I gave her one more penetrating look, and then said, “Fine, I’ll let you tag along if you swear an oath which will keep you in line.”

  “I hereby swear to support your decisions, protect you from danger, and fight at your side against all foes, excepting members of my House, until such time as I tell you that I am departing from your group to pursue my own quest, and get your permission to leave. I swear this oath by my Archimage, Arawn Tarvos.”

  I looked at Hydan, who nodded, “That’s about the best you are going to get out of her.”

  “All right,” I answered.

  “Now, shall we proceed to this Stonehenge so I can track these gehdrin to the Dark One’s lair?” Myrka stated, as if in charge, and headed for the door out.

  “No, we shall not,” I replied, freezing her in her tracks. “We are headed for Abal, to find my parents.”

 

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