Nevertheless, it seemed that Diana was sending me a message. I hadn’t impressed her, so I’d get all the shit work that was available. What she didn’t understand was that I’d rather do this than hang around with strangers.
When Herman temporarily ran out of manure, he set me to work filling feed bins.
I kept at it until one of the other ranch hands came through my area holding a black cat with a dirty, matted coat. The lower part of his right rear leg was bent unnaturally to the outside.
“It’s a stray,” he said. “Somebody accidentally rolled over him with a wheelbarrow. Can I leave him here while I run for one of the healers?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll try to soothe him until help arrives."
I comforted the cat as much as I could, cradling his leg in my hands. Several times, I said, “I wish I could help.”
The cat didn’t resist, so I brushed the tips of my fingers over his coat and sang a lullaby Grandma Norrie used to sing to me when I was a kid.
Without warning, I seemed to share the cat’s pain. It ran right up my arm from my fingers. Damn, that was weird. The cat’s leg was throbbing, and any movement he made produced a sharp spasm in both of us. Then, to my astonishment, the cat seemed to relax. Less pain flowed out of him into me, and soon it vanished completely. I was left with a sense of serenity.
Wow! I seemed to be able to heal animals. I’d always been able to comfort them, but this was different.
My magical core flamed inside me, much more powerfully than it had at Lake Isabelle. A warm glow radiated from my chest, and the odor of catnip filled the air. The leg was now straight.
Why hadn’t this happened before?
The cat started to purr in my arms. That had to be a good sign. And healing broken bones was heavy-duty magic. How could I have managed that without knowing something more than a song?
Chills ran down my back, and my legs weakened. Before I could collapse, I sat on a bench. What a thrill that had been. I’d used so much power it without understanding what I was doing. Not smart, Farm Boy.
Even so, my mind remained calm. The otherworldly contentment stayed with me.
By the time Laura arrived, the cat was strutting behind me as I returned to filling the feed bins. The ranch hand and Laura stood by me as I told them what had happened.
Then Laura said, “So…before you realized what was going on, you had your Corvette out of the garage, racing down a curvy road at a hundred miles an hour, blindfolded?”
I nodded. “I can’t figure it out. That didn’t used to happen when I came across injured animals back at the farm.”
Tess showed up, and I went through my explanation again.
“Oh, yeah,” Laura said. “I told him yesterday to watch out.”
I wasn’t sure whether I should be happy or worried. “I’ll be more careful about accidental magic, but I don’t want this delicious feeling to end.”
“Wow!” Laura said. “This is the real deal.”
“It was an accident,” I replied.
The cat kept winding himself around my legs.
“I’m sure it was,” Laura said. “The thing is, I never make magic by accident. It’s hard enough to do it on purpose. This will keep happening. You’re a healer. It’s amazing magic. No wonder the afterglow gets you stoned.”
I shook my head. “It’s probably only because I have such warm feelings for animals. I doubt I can heal people, too. Most of all, I need to understand what I’m doing.”
Tess frowned. “You’re right, and there’s extra danger to being a healer. It’s too tempting to exhaust yourself.”
I held up a hand to interrupt. “Why is it, every time I turn around, there’s another problem?”
Tess shrugged. “People who drive Corvettes are always getting their asses into trouble. It’s the price you pay.”
“It just feels so good. There must be something wrong.” My face warmed.
Laura shook her head. “You’re doing something right.”
Then I remembered what Tess had started to say. “What was that about exhaustion?”
“Any spell consumes magical power,” she replied. “And healing magic drains you more than most. Some healers cripple themselves to save others. That’s why Diana constantly feeds more power to Laura. We need to talk to Diana about getting you a healing mentor, so you can learn how to avoid going too far.”
“I think you’re getting too carried away,” I said. “Diana already doesn’t like me, and she’ll like me less if it looks like I’m exaggerating my talent. Let’s hold off on telling her until we understand this better.”
Both women frowned at me but nodded.
Out of the corner of one eye, I noticed one of the compound’s huge Rottweilers approaching us. He brushed past Laura and, to my astonishment, transformed into an even bigger wolf. He was mostly black, with gray fur on his muzzle, neck and chest.
“Hell and damnation!” I jumped back.
“Oh,” Laura laughed. “I should’ve warned you. Herman uses glamour so our neighbors won’t complain about wolves running free. They’re very controversial in Colorado, but thanks in part to these guys, we can roam the ranch safely, day or night.”
After the wolf moved away from Laura, he turned back into a smaller, black-and-brindle Rottweiler.
I slowly reached out to pet him, and he didn’t act hostile. His fur was thick and soft.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“Washta,” she replied. “It means ‘handsome’ in Lakota.”
He sure was that, and big. I’d never seen a canine this large before. He had to weigh a hundred and fifty pounds.
I petted him for a few minutes. It seemed like every moment I spent in this place produced some new surprise. The last few had been good, but that couldn’t last. Lady Luck never seemed to favor me for long.
Chapter 8
TESS AND LAURA DRAGGED me back to the commons for lunch. It was warm outside, so the three of us sat in a private corner of an outside patio paved with large slabs of granite. We sat in the shade under a grape arbor covered with fruit-laden vines.
Laura took a long sip of iced tea. “Time for some basic magic background.”
I breathed deep and nodded. Her presence always filled me with confidence. We munched on blueberry scones, and I waited for my next surprise.
Tess smirked. “You have the innocent look of a wide-eyed little boy. I’ll bet you never expected evil to transform your life so completely.”
My ears warmed. Was I so naive? I shrugged. “Just tell me what I need to know to survive in your crazy world.”
“Don’t get snippy.” Tess flicked a tiny piece of her scone at my face. “I didn’t put you here.”
Laura smirked. “Listen up. The first rule of magic is nobody knows the rules of magic.”
I groaned. Not more confusion.
“At least, nobody knows all the rules,” Laura added. “Be skeptical about everything we tell you.”
“Yeah, that’s real helpful.” I shook my head. The idea that I would doubt them was beyond ridiculous.
“And don’t be a smartass,” Tess said. “Unlike on TV, real spells are difficult to do well.”
“Then, why does it come so easily for both of you?”
“Because we’re stars,” Laura replied. “And you’re a rookie.”
“You know the worst of it already,” Tess said. “Sorcerers can steal your powers and enslave you, maybe even kill you.”
“Sure, but I don’t know what ‘enslave’ means for magicians.”
“Mentally enslaved,” Laura said. “You’d be overwhelmed with the urge to satisfy your new master’s every whim, no matter how disgusting or perverted.”
That wasn’t good. “For how long?”
Tess frowned. “Until he releases you, or one of you dies. And if he gets beat in a magical battle, you’ll both become the winner’s slaves.”
“Can’t I r
un away?”
“No.” She continued. “You won’t be able to leave, or to stop yourself from doing whatever you’re told. If someone rescues you, you’ll fight to return to your master. You’ll even do things you think he’ll like without being told. Total devotion.”
How messed up was that? If this magical world got any weirder, I was going to qualify for my own padded cell. “Why would anybody be stupid enough to fight?”
But I knew the answer. My only option was to hide out in the wilderness and hope no sorcerer ever stumbled across me.
“You can’t hide forever,” Tess said. “Eventually, you have to take a stand.” She checked her watch. “It’s two. Let’s get your fighting lesson started.”
I cringed as I remembered my first training at Maggie’s house. “Okay.”
Laura fought a smile as Tess and I left her on the patio. “You’ll be fine. She only pretends to be a monster.”
My fighting master led me to a nearby training room with bare walls and soft mats on the floor. The only furnishings were a tall wooden cabinet, a particle board desk, and two metal folding chairs. We stood in the center of the room.
“To begin with,” she said, “don’t get your hopes up that fighting magic will come easy. You obviously have an innate connection with animals, but that doesn’t mean other kinds of magic will flow as easily.”
I nodded. Of course fighting would be hard. I didn’t have her taste for the jugular.
“Moving beyond the basics takes a lot of concentration and mental effort. We’ll have to purify your mind until it’s transformed into a powerful tool.”
“I haven’t had time to make a staff,” I reminded her.
“No problem. I’ve got plenty. And, just so you know, you’re not Gandalf.” She laughed. “Bottom line—you use your mind to cast spells not some fancy supersized wand.”
I closed my eyes and tried to absorb everything she’d said. “Is any of this stuff written down? I’m pretty nervous. I’ll forget a lot—I need a Magic for Dummies book.”
“Forget it,” she said. “In the old days, you could be burned alive for being a witch. Even today, the cops will lock you up in states like Oklahoma. You don’t want anything lying around that could betray you.”
“I’m usually a fast learner, but I’m having trouble concentrating today. I feel kind of overwhelmed.”
She glowered. Her black uniform made her look tougher than usual. “What I’m about to tell you could save your life.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded. “That’s better. Okay, first I want you to notice the way your mind races from past memories, to current feelings, to future plans, all in seconds. To make powerful magic, you have to control the craziness.”
“I’ve been a bit stressed lately. Why are there so many weird rules to magic?”
“Why does water freeze at thirty-two degrees? Some things just are. Deal with it.”
Tess sat on a mat cross-legged, and I did the same.
“Okay,” she said. “More rules. If two opposing groups of magicians meet, only one fighter from each side goes into battle. Each group picks its own champion.”
“Great. No ganging up on me?”
She nodded. “And you already saw that when a magician issues a challenge, he’s frozen in place for ten seconds. That gives the defending magician time to run or get ready.”
“Running sounds like the smart move.”
I was kidding, but she didn’t laugh.
“Then, once the fight has started, you cast spells and fight hand-to-hand. The goal is to knock him out or kill him. And you don’t want to exhaust your magical power, so you have to pace yourself.”
I understood her. “Okay.”
“Here’s your first defensive spell. It’s a form of ward. Wards usually protect something. In this case, it protects you.”
Protection—that was exactly what I needed. Lots of it. “Perfect.”
She locked her eyes on mine. “You find your magical core and say or think, ‘Vello, shield me.’”
I reached out my hand and felt a hard surface between us. She was surrounded by a perfectly clear wall.
A few seconds later, it disappeared.
“Now, you try,” Tess said.
I tried to calm my mind and find the magic inside, but my kernel didn’t materialize. I whispered anyway, “Vello, shield me.”
Nothing happened.
After a moment, Tess showed me the spell again. Once more, I felt her solid, invisible barrier form between us. I tried several times to make my own ward, but nothing happened.
Tess patted my hand. “I told you it wouldn’t come easy. You’re probably trying too hard. Let’s pick this up again in a few minutes. It’ll come, with practice, I’m sure.”
But despite working at it again and again, I couldn’t get the damned ward to form.
I was thrilled when she decided we’d tried enough for one day.
-o-o-o-
SINCE THAT HAD BEEN a bust, I needed a break from magic. I wanted to drive around the area, just to get a feel for my new home. The mechanic in the garage where I’d stored the Eldo had fixed the misfire though he didn’t want me to leave. When I insisted, he agreed I wasn’t anybody’s prisoner. He tried to get hold of one of the people in charge, but, luckily, everybody was too busy to tell me no.
I promised the guy I wouldn’t go to town and I wouldn’t stop anywhere that people gathered. And I agreed to take a staff. He still grumbled as I drove away.
For a couple of hours, I was truly free. No responsibilities and no twisted magical rules to follow. I roamed around the mountains and through the forests west of Boulder. This late in the summer, Oklahoma was parched, but not here in the Arapaho-Roosevelt National Forest. It was lushly green.
Up higher, I occasionally got great views of the rugged Continental Divide. Eventually, down lower, I followed Boulder Creek from Nederland toward Boulder, but I wasn’t going to drive that far. I knew the town was dangerous when I was alone.
There were plenty of little turnouts along the creek, and I stopped at several. There was nothing like this in Oklahoma, not even close. A cold breeze flowed down the canyon late in the afternoon. The stream churned constantly as water crashed from one rock to another. The banks were thick with wildflowers.
Eventually, I realized it was dinnertime, so I headed back up the canyon.
Suddenly, something huge crashed against the Eldo, and my body was slammed around inside. The rear of the car spun to the left, sliding into a turnout along the creek.
Something huge had smashed into my car. The Caddie stopped at the edge of the tumbling creek.
What the hell? I glanced over my right shoulder. An old green delivery truck had plowed into the back part of the car. It must’ve run a stop sign on a road leading down a steep hillside. The traffic from both directions kept whizzing by as if nothing had happened.
I tried to turn farther to see more, but a sharp pain in my right hip made me gasp. My left arm was oozing blood from a long scrape that stung like the dickens.
Dazed, I reached over and released the seatbelt. That lessened the pain.
The door…
It’d been flung open by the impact. Thank you, Jesus; my seatbelt had kept me from being hurled into the creek.
I gingerly slid across the bench seat and opened the passenger door. My hip worked, but a stabbing pain ran down my right leg each time I moved it.
I hobbled out of the car to check on the truck and its driver. The old truck wasn’t nearly as smashed up as the Eldo, but the glass in the driver’s door had shattered. Blood was dripping down the outside.
I couldn’t see the driver or hear him. “Are you okay?” I yelled.
No response.
I yelled louder, “Do you need help?”
Still no response. My mind fogged, and I leaned against the truck to keep from falling over.
A medium-sized, bald-head
ed guy ran around the front of the truck. He held his arms out as though he wanted to grab me. He seemed to wobble, like he was drunk. Then my worst fear was confirmed. The guy said something I couldn’t understand and froze.
A fucking sorcerer was attacking me. Running wasn’t an option. Hell, I could barely walk. I approached the guy to punch his lights out, but I hit some kind of invisible barrier.
As soon as I saw his first movement, a buzzing began in my ears. That had to be a sign that the fight was on.
The barrier before me vanished. Instantly, I smashed the guy in the nose with my right fist. Blood gushed everywhere, but he didn’t drop.
I tried to get behind the truck to save myself, but I couldn’t move fast enough. He pointed at me with his right hand. I knew what was coming next.
He stiffened for an instant, and I dropped to the ground.
A bolt of lightning shot out of his right hand, and flew over me, grazing my back. I couldn’t breathe, and he’d partially immobilized my torso.
My only chance to win would be to beat the shit out of him before he could use more magic. Luckily, his attack seemed to drain him of power. I scrambled toward him, using my head like a battering ram.
He staggered back and then ran around the front of the truck. But he was clearly smashed. His foot caught on a stump that rose a few inches up from the ground. I scrambled to him, using my hands like feet and dragging my bad leg.
Before he could get up, I fell on him and pummeled his face.
He didn’t give up, so I choked him with my bare hands around his throat.
Soon his eyes rolled back in into his head, and the buzzing in my head stopped.
He was out cold, so I worried again about the truck’s driver. These two seemed to be sorcerers, but there was a helluva lot of blood on the truck’s door. Maybe the second guy was dead.
I hopped on my good leg to the step below the cab and jumped up to peer inside. As I stretched out, I had to ignore the stabbing pain in my hip. The thing about pain, though, was that it always seemed to end quickly. All my life, I’d had trouble understanding how someone could feel pain for long. It had never happened to me.
Lone Survivor: The Sorcerers' Scourge Series: Book One Page 8