Just Cause Universe 2: The Archmage

by Ian Thomas Healy

  “Fight,” said Juice without hesitation, and Just Cause went to battle.

  Juice and Jack waded into the walking bones fearlessly, Juice with his fists and Jack with a sword that he yanked from a skeleton’s bony grip. In spite of their armor, the skeletons seemed fragile. With no sinew or muscle to connect the bones to each other, only magic held them together. A good strong blow was enough to break the spell and shatter them into pieces which dissipated into smoke. Shannon entered the fray and used her powerful spin kicks to send skulls clattering off the walls and fading into nothingness when the skeletal warriors came close to her. Stratocaster fired off chord after chord from his guitar; each one sent a skeleton flying into pieces. Ace fired off a few rounds from her pistol and blew apart some skulls.

  Sally realized everyone was doing something but her. An idea surfaced; she knew Jack had a reel of light, strong cord in his pack. She ran to his discarded bag, found the reel and ran to one of the columns holding up the castle roof. She looped the cord around it and tugged. It held fast. She ran crisscross through the hall with the cord trailing behind her. She dipped between and around skeletons. When the cord got difficult to pull on from all the twists, she brought the reel over to Juice.

  “Hey, boss… pull on this,” she said and pressed the cord into his hand. He wrapped a few lengths around his hand and gave a mighty yank. The cord stretched taut and snapped through a dozen skeletons like a garrote.

  He grinned. “Do that again.”

  Sally felt better about herself than she had in days as she made another circuit around the room. Within a few minutes, all the skeletons had been defeated to leave the Just Cause heroes alone once more.

  “Is anybody hurt?” asked Juice.

  Nobody had worse than scratches and bruises.

  “This is getting ridiculous,” said Shannon. “Are we facing a villain or a twelve-year-old geek?”

  “Destroyer was only thirteen when he first battled Just Cause,” said Sally. “Age has nothing to do with ability.”

  Ace brushed sweat-soaked bangs off her forehead. “What’s next?”

  Eerie laughter echoed throughout the hall, a low chuckle of eminent pleasure. The heroes clustered together and glanced around for the source of the sounds. “What, indeed?” asked the voice.

  “Show yourself, Frazier.” Stratocaster adjusted the knobs on his guitar.

  “William. How nice of you to deliver yourself to me.”

  Jack nodded above them toward the shadows. “There. He’s up there. I’m sure of it,” he whispered.

  “Tell me, William,” said the voice. “How did it feel to take the power from the Saitos? Was it everything you ever imagined? Don’t you wish you could feel that again?”

  “Who are the Saitos?” asked Juice.

  “Long story. I’ll tell you later if we’re not dead.” Stratocaster frowned at the shadows Jack had pointed to. “You can’t hide forever, Frazier.”

  The voice turned ugly. “Neither can you. And now that I’ve found you, you won’t escape me again.” A figure descended from the shadows on an icy breeze, dressed in burgundy-trimmed black robes over his pale skin.

  Jack stepped forward, pistol raised. “Hold it right there, sucker.”

  Frazier smiled coolly. “Simpleton.” He made the smallest of gestures with one hand. Something passed through the air between him and Jack.

  “What the hell?” Jack looked perplexed as whatever-it-was lifted him from the ground and suspended him in a swirling cloud of nothingness.

  “Magic, fool,” said Frazier. Jack was hurled against a wall with enough force to crack the stones behind where his body impacted. He crumpled to the ground and lay still.

  “Jack!” Sally tried to step forward, but found she couldn’t move. From the angry grunts of her teammates she figured that they were likewise paralyzed.

  “Now, William. We can’t have your little friends interfering. You and I have unfinished business.” Tiny sparks rose up from the floor as the Archmage’s heels touched the ground.

  “Let them go, Frazier. This is between you and me. They’re innocent bystanders in this.”

  Frazier threw back his head and laughed. “Ah, William. Don’t you know by now that nobody is innocent?” With a gesture of his hand, Stratocaster’s guitar flew from his grasp. The brilliant white instrument spun through the air and bounced across the floor. Each impact looked like it caused physical pain to Stratocaster.

  “What… do… you… want?” hissed Juice through lips and teeth that were mostly paralyzed.

  “I’m impressed,” said Frazier. “Speaking through my magic paralysis has got to be very painful. Perhaps I will indulge you. After all, I am going to kill you.”

  Another cliché, thought Sally. He’s going to tell us his plans.

  A new voice interrupted. “Perhaps that’s not such a good idea, my lord.” An older man wearing blue jeans and a cotton work shirt stepped out of the shadows. His silvery hair fell around his face and shoulders and he would have looked more natural on the back of a horse than in a magic castle.

  Frazier lifted a languid arm and Sally felt herself rise into the air. “Why?” Frazier asked, full of petulance.

  “Suppose they got free? Then they would know about your plans.”

  Sally wondered if she could somehow shake herself loose using her super-speed.

  “But it’s a brilliant plan, Seth, and it’s all going exactly as I figured it would. Did you see the way that plane went down? Magnificent!”

  “Of course, my lord. But just the same… it might be better to merely kill them and be done with it. You have more important tasks than to waste time on these would-be heroes.”

  Frazier rubbed his chin in thought. “Yes, perhaps you’re right. It’s time I began the spell in earnest.”

  Sally’s paralysis had slight play, enough to allow her to breathe. She twitched herself back and forth against it by shifting her weight as fast as possible. Each time she moved against it, it gave a fraction of an inch, as if the spell were weakening. If she got free, she only needed a second to close with him and hit him hard on the head. Mage or not, a 600-mile-per-hour punch would knock him into next week.

  “Of course, my lord. I’ll begin making prep—” a muffled pop interrupted the man and a bright green feathery growth appeared in the center of his throat. A look of confusion crossed his face before he fell to the ground.

  “What? Seth?” Frazier ran over to the other man and stared down at him in horror. Sally felt the paralysis give a little more. One second. Come on.

  “He’s done for the day, and you’re next unless you release my friends right now!” Jack’s voice echoed throughout the large chamber. Sally managed to turn her eyes enough to see him leveling a small pistol at Frazier. His clothes were torn, and he was covered with rock dust from where he’d smashed into the castle wall. He’d retrieved Stratocaster’s guitar and hung it over his shoulder by its strap. “That was a tranquilizer dart. This next one’s a bullet. Your move, Frazier.”

  Sally was never so happy to see Jack alive and in one piece. She renewed her efforts to free herself and wiggled herself back and forth until the room blurred.

  “You shall pay for that!” Frazier rose into the air, his face blotchy and red. Flames limned his hands. Jack fired as Frazier cast a jet of incandescent flame at Jack and enveloped him in a burning cloud. The bullet flared briefly in midair and disappeared into acrid vapor.

  Jack stepped closer toward Frazier, his grin plain through the firestorm around him even as his clothing flashed into ashes. “Can’t hurt me that way. Now knock it off… there are ladies present.” His pistol melted under the onslaught and he dropped the glowing lump of metal.

  Frazier’s eyes narrowed. “Breaking you will be a pleasure. I shall have you lead my armies. An indestructible general.” He halted his fiery attack.

  Jack turned to the only thing he had left: Stratocaster’s guitar, somehow incredibly unscathed by the recent abuse it had sust
ained. Jack swung it around in front of him. “All right, I really didn’t want to have to resort to this. Give up, Frazier. I’ve got a guitar and it’s loaded.”

  Frazier’s eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing. You hold no power.”

  Jack lowered his right hand to the strings, ready to strum. “You want to find out the hard way?”

  Sally struggled at the magical bonds which held her in place, but to no avail; they wouldn’t weaken any more than they already had.

  Frazier raised his arms over his head, a gesture not of surrender but of aggression. “You have no power!” he screamed. His palms glowed with a violet aura.

  Jack brought his hand down across the strings and released a discordant shriek from the white guitar. Sally and the others were dumped to the ground as Frazier’s magical bonds dissolved.

  A glowing, swirling storm of energy the size of a baseball appeared in the air between Frazier and Jack.

  “Jack, give me the guitar,” hissed Stratocaster.

  “You fool! What have you done?” Frazier backed away as the glowing sphere grew to the size of a bowling ball. Sally felt a breeze move past her face toward the energy ball.

  An evil grin crossed Jack’s face. “I don’t know. But if you don’t surrender, I’ll do it again.”

  “Jack, give me the guitar right now!” Stratocaster’s voice was urgent and tinged with fear. The sphere grew to the size of a beach ball and now Sally could feel it pull at her.

  “Sally, return Will’s instrument to him.” Juice picked himself up off the ground.

  Sally ran to Jack’s side. He handed her the guitar without looking; his eyes never left the Archmage. Frazier’s attention was transfixed only on the glowing energy, which continued to swell.

  “Ace? You got him?” Jack called toward the Israeli woman.

  “Dead to rights, sir,” she replied, her pistol clutched in both hands and leveled at Frazier.

  As Sally handed the guitar over to Stratocaster, Frazier waved a hand and circles of crackling blue lightning enveloped him, his assistant, and Jack. The three men vanished.

  “Jack!” screamed Sally.

  The sphere in the center of the room grew to the size of a small car. Sally felt her feet skid across the floor toward it.

  “Will, can’t you stop it?” called Juice.

  “I’m trying.” Stratocaster played hard and fast. His fingers flew across the fretboard. Sparks danced around him like he was an Independence Day attraction. Everyone looked for anchor points as the pull of the sphere increased.

  Ace lost her footing and slid toward it. Her gun spilled from her fingers and whirled into the vortex to vanish with a crackle like an overloaded capacitor. Sally leaped forward and locked her hands around Ace’s wrists to help brace her and keep her from sliding into the glowing ball. She felt hands on her ankles and glanced back to see Shannon hanging onto her, her face contorted with grim determination. A moment later, Juice added his own considerable weight to try to anchor them all.

  There was a flash of lightning and a powerful smell of ozone filled the air. The thunder nearly deafened them all. A crack appeared on the front of Stratocaster’s guitar. “Shit, I’m losing it!”

  Sally gasped as Ace left the floor, pulled straight toward the heart of the swirling vortex. Her own body lifted as well as the sphere’s pull exceeded even the Earth’s gravity. Blood pooled in her head and made her vision go red. Sally felt like her arms might rip right from their sockets. Ace looked into her eyes with resigned hopelessness and released her hold on Sally’s wrists.

  “No!” growled Sally through clenched teeth. “I won’t let you go.” She owed Ace her life after the pilot had rescued her from a twenty-thousand foot fall over Guatemala in a daring maneuver that could have splattered both of them as well as the Bettie across a dozen square miles of jungle.

  Lightning flared again and one of Stratocaster’s strings broke with a twang. Then another snapped, and in a quick chain reaction the remaining four strings separated. Whatever magic he’d been working failed and his guitar shattered into pieces. He succumbed to the pull of the vortex. Juice lunged out with one hand to snag his ankle as he flew past.

  This is another fine mess you’ve gotten us into, Stanley, thought Sally. If Jack was still there, and she’d had any breath to spare, she’d have said it and he would have laughed.

  The energy sphere grew again. Ace’s flailing feet contacted it with a flare of dark red energy. The pull increased a thousand fold, and they all disappeared into the whirling storm of energy.

  Chapter Eight

  “Numerical superiority is of no consequence. In battle, victory will go to the best tactician.”

  -General George Armstrong Custer

  Location Unknown

  The first thing Sally felt was strong heat on her face; she was sweating underneath her breath mask and goggles. Through her closed eyelids, she could see great light as it poured down upon her. She became gradually aware of sounds as they filtered in through the fog in her brain: wind, birds, insects. She wondered if she might be able to move one arm. Pins and needles jabbed through her as her nerves awoke, but she still reached up to pull her goggles and breather mask off. A breeze played across her sweaty, hot face. She rolled onto her side and opened her eyes.

  She lay on dry prairie grass on the side of a hill. The bright sky held few clouds. A wave of vertigo and nausea swept over her and she fell back to a prone position, and threw an arm over her face to shield it from the merciless sun. She felt terribly thirsty and her head pounded like a drum solo from Jason’s band. She told herself this was no time to be sick, and made herself look around.

  Juice was sprawled face down on the grass, one arm outstretched in Sally’s general direction. Shannon, Stratocaster, and Ace likewise laid in the grass nearby. Juice was closest to her and she thought she could cover that short distance without fainting. She reached him, but only barely. The entire world spun around her for a few moments and threatened to send her careening off into oblivion once more.

  She stripped off her gloves and checked for a pulse on Juice’s neck. She sighed in relief when she found a strong one fluttering under her fingertips. “Juice?” she croaked with a mouth almost as dry as the surrounding land.

  He stirred and groaned. “What the hell happened?”

  Sally licked her lips. “I don’t know, sir. But we’re all here. I mean, all of us who fell into the… the whatever it was.”

  Juice rolled up into a sitting position and hung his head forward between his knees. “I haven’t felt this bad since my bachelor party. Let’s make sure nobody’s hurt and then figure out where we are.”

  They got the other three awakened in short order. Everyone complained of dizziness and nausea, but other than that nobody was injured.

  “Just Cause, this is Juice, come in,” said Juice into his radio. There was no reply. He changed channels. “Doublecharge, Juice. Please respond.”

  Sally’s eyes met Ace’s. She found no comfort there.

  Juice made one more adjustment to his radio and switched it to the emergency channel. “Breaker nine, breaker nine, anyone receiving this message please reply. This is Juice from Just Cause requesting any agency to respond.”

  Only gentle, unbroken static issued from the radio.

  “Why do they not answer?” Ace scanned the horizon.

  “Where are we, anyway?” asked Shannon.

  “Any ideas, Will?” asked Juice.

  The mage shrugged. “We could be anywhere.”

  Sally checked her phone. “No signal at all. I thought these were satellite phones.”

  Juice looked skyward, as if he might be able to spot a satellite. Something about the sky struck Sally as odd, but it was Ace who identified it. “No contrails,” she said. “I haven’t seen a sky this empty since 9/11.”

  “Feel up to a little run, Sally?” asked Juice.

  She nodded. “Yes, sir. How far?”

  “Two miles out, circle our position,
and report back. And be careful until we find out where we are.”

  Sally lit out at an easy lope of sixty miles per hour. She wanted to feel the wind on her face as a reminder she was still alive. Gentle rolling hills filled the landscape, covered with wild grasses and weeds, with a few stands of trees here and there. It was actually very beautiful country, wherever it was.

  She topped a rise and skidded to a stop. Her mind reeled from what she saw and she dropped to the ground in a flash and hoped she hadn’t been seen. In a shallow valley below her sat a sprawling encampment. She saw horses and wagons and tents, and men dressed in blue military uniforms. Hats. Brass buttons. Rifles. Swords. A United States flag flew proudly in the breeze, but it looked odd. After a moment, she realized what was wrong with it: not enough stars. She counted them, and then counted them again to be sure.

  Thirty-seven.

  Sally ran back to where Juice and the others awaited her, much quicker than when she’d left.

  “That was fast,” said Shannon.

  Sally’s hands shook like leaves in a gale. “I… I think we might have traveled back in time.” The words came out in a rush, almost too fast for anyone to understand. She was terrified; it seemed more and more likely to her that the bones and horseshoe she’d found were her own.

  “What leads you to that conclusion?” asked Juice.

  “I saw a military camp with horses, old uniforms, and a flag with thirty-seven stars.”

  “Hmmm.” Juice rubbed his jaw. “Sounds like a re-enactment. Don’t they try to do a lot of those in the summer? Did you see any spectators?”

  Sally stamped her foot. “I’m not being silly. I know what I saw. No cars, no fat tourists with cameras. If it’s a re-enactment, it’s only for the benefit of the participants.”

  “How far away? Maybe we should all take a look. At the very least we need some water and a working radio or phone,” said Shannon.