Wanderers: Ragnarök

by Richard A Bamberg

  “Not bad, a little tired of work. I’m thinking of taking a leave of absence.”

  “Really? You haven’t been scaring Rafe, have you?” Cynthia said.

  I stepped back as Cynthia moved to hug Cris. When they broke the hug, Cris said, “We were just discussing families and places we’d been. I was going to ask him if he’d met you yet.”

  Cynthia glanced at me for a moment and then said, “How did you do it, Cris?”

  “What?” Cris didn’t take her eyes off Cynthia’s.

  “It’s interesting that Rafe has revealed almost nothing about his background to me, and yet you’re discussing family histories in less than five minutes.”

  Cris smiled coyly. “Cuz you haven’t staked a claim on him already, have you?”

  Cynthia jerked back. “What? No, there’s no claim. I just wondered how you were getting him to open up when he’s been tight-lipped up to now. Besides, he’s a co-worker, nothing more.”

  “Really? You should know better than to lie to me Cuz. You could never do it when we were kids and you can’t do it now.”

  The tension between them was amusing, but the longer they talked, the greater the risk of Cris letting something slip out. I interrupted. “Cynthia, why didn’t you tell me I’d be meeting your cousin tonight?”

  She turned to me, taking her eyes off Cris for the first time. “I had no reason to think we would; Cris hasn’t been to one of these gatherings in a couple of years. She moved to Atlanta after college.”

  “Atlanta. Interesting, I’ve never been there,” I lied and faced Cris. “What’s it like?”

  “Excuse me,” Cynthia interrupted.

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “Do you always try to switch the topic when you don’t like the subject?”

  “Did I do that?”

  “You know, it’s a classic symptom of suppressed anxiety to avoid discussions of one’s past,” Cris said. She smiled at me and her eyes twinkled in our mutual conspiracy.

  “Really?” I asked. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a psychologist.”

  “Yes, actually,” Cris said.

  “No wonder you picked up on that. I’ve always thought counseling troubled people must be a rewarding career,” I said.

  “Oh, it is. Very rewarding.”

  “Excuse me again,” Cynthia interrupted. “Cris, are you trying to be funny?”

  “Funny? You know me better than that, Cuz. I haven’t been funny since the fourth grade.”

  “The fourth grade?” I said. “That’s a long time to be serious. Is that what led you to be a psychologist?”

  Cynthia threw her hands into the air. “All right! All right, I give up. We won’t talk about your background.”

  Cris started laughing and put an arm around mine. I wrapped my right arm over hers and held her as we swayed together.

  Cynthia frowned as she realized I was studying her. “I’m glad to see you two have become such fast friends. Cris, I’ve never known you to cozy up to anyone this fast.”

  “What’s not to like? He’s a handsome and mysterious stranger. What woman wouldn’t want to be friends with him?” Cris asked.

  Cynthia’s glare implied her cousin would soon need her own analyst. She opened her mouth to say something and froze. Her eyes widened, and she looked at Cris with a new suspicion. “You read him!”

  “Did not,” Cris said.

  “You did too, you sneak. All right, what did you get from him?”

  This conversation had taken a nasty turn. If Cynthia learned anything of my real reasons for being in Huntsville, she would certainly inform Abigail.

  “I can’t tell,” Cris said. “I mean...I didn’t get anything.”

  “Cousin, you never could lie to me either. Give it up; I know you’ve learned something about him. Now tell me what it is.”

  “Can’t. Promised not to.”

  Cynthia stared at me and her voice came out low and threatening. “So there is something he’s not telling. I knew it. You might as well tell me now, Cuz; you know you’ve never been able to keep things from me. Besides, he’s here as Abigail’s apprentice. She deserves to know if he’s keeping something from her.”

  “Cynthia, I’m not naïve. I know you’re her only apprentice, besides, he’s–”

  I squeezed her arm and spun her around to face me, her doe-eyed charm the only thing keeping me from forcing a compulsion on her. “You said I had the next dance. Shall we?”

  “There’s no music.”

  “Nonsense, for a lady there is always music in the air.” I took the wine glass from her hand and set it down on the rock. I twirled her again, farther from Cynthia, and focused. “You just have to listen.”

  As I spoke, the faint sound of wind chimes struck in a coordinated rhythm. Cris’s eyes grew wide as did her smile as she recognized a waltz. She joined my twirl without resistance and we followed the music’s beat.

  I glanced back toward Cynthia. The gentle music of the chimes had surprised her long enough for us to dance away. But as long as these beautiful cousins were together there was the danger of Cris revealing my background. I’d have to make sure they weren’t alone for any length of time.

  I drew Cris tighter against me as we danced. Cousins, I smiled, the possibilities boggled the mind.

  CHAPTER 6

  A cold wave resonated across my awareness. Like a pebble cast into a still pond, waves of a dark and evil spell disturbed the night. The strength of the spell disturbed my personal ward. I focused and almost activated my watch’s shield before I realized the spell hadn’t been directed at me. I turned away from the house and triggered my sensory tat. A pattern of energy pulsated from the forest. Somewhere out there, an entity was being summoned. Nervous anticipation filled me. The summoned creature wasn’t what I was in Huntsville to handle, but the power behind the spell ensured it would be something I couldn’t ignore. I had to confront whatever was coming.

  After our brief dance, Cris had left to find the young man she came with and I was momentarily unattached to either cousin.

  I glanced around at the other guests scattered around the backyard. Most were oblivious to the spell, but those with strong talent were also turning to face the forest. If the coven was coordinated, they would assemble to meet this invasion of their territory. I needed to get moving before the others. I might or might not have the power to stop this creature, but I was obligated to investigate the potent threat before it could spread havoc.

  I slipped quietly out of sight of the others, into the forest, and found a path through the trees that led in the right direction. If I was fast, I might be able to prevent the spell’s completion and thwart the schemes of the summoner. If not, then I’d have to vanquish the creature before turning my attention to the human responsible for this.

  With my augmented sight, I ran, leaping over fallen branches and following the dark path as if by daylight. Leaves crunched underfoot, but I had no time for stealth. The spell was intensifying.

  A blood-red light began to glow somewhere ahead. I was close. My pulse quickened and I let nervous energy flow through me, building, gathering to be used when necessary.

  I uncoiled the sling from my left wrist. I fished in my pocket for an iron ball. I hadn’t been expecting a fight tonight and had only brought the one bullet for my sling. But one shot from my sling would stop most nasties.

  A shape materialized out of the undergrowth onto the path directly front of me. There was no time to dodge or to stop. I collided with someone and together we went down in a heap, scattering forest detritus in all directions as we slid across the earth.

  There was a soft warmness in the person beneath me and I caught the scent of jasmine.

  “Get off me, damn it!” Cynthia cursed and lashed out with an elbow.

  I caught the blow below the sternum as I tried to rise and felt the air rush from my lungs. I rolled to the side and got my feet under me. I couldn’t breathe. The impact on my solar plexus had done only
temporary damage, but it prevented me from breathing and worse, from focusing.

  I struggled to my feet. I’d held on to my sling, but the iron ball had fallen from its leather. I took a second to look for it, but it was lost in the undergrowth. My fingers closed on a stone and I scooped it up. My wind returned slowly.

  “You! I should have known. Is this your doing?”

  And I should have known it would be Cynthia. Lately, everything I did seemed to involve her. “Of course it’s me, and no, it’s not my doing. We can discuss this later.”

  There was no time to argue; the spell was nearly finished. Finally getting a deep breath into my lungs, I focused and spent a moment relieving the compression on my nerve cluster. I stepped past Cynthia. She clutched my arm and jerked me to a stop.

  “Wait a minute,” she said.

  I jerked free of her grasp and ran toward the light. As I ran, I activated the shield enchanted into my wristwatch. The few seconds she’d delayed me were a few too many.

  I felt a snap course through the forest at the completion of the summons and the red glow vanished. I was too late to prevent it, now I’d find out if I were strong enough to send whatever demon had been summoned back to its source.

  The forest opened abruptly into a glen no larger than Vaughn’s backyard. Something buzzed by my face, an insect? No, a pixie. The green tights were a dead giveaway that it wasn’t an insect. The pixie disappeared into the forest to my right.

  There was movement at the far side of the glade, in the shadows, just out of reach of the bright moonlight. Blood flowed. Without seeing, without even smelling, I knew blood was spilling onto the forest floor. Death had arrived before me.

  If I couldn’t prevent an innocent’s death, I would settle for retribution. I slowed to a walk and set my sling in motion.

  I opened my eyes wide; absorbing what was there to see. The spell brought me frequencies outside the visual bands we normally see. Shadows, darker than those cast by the trees, moved at the edge of the glade. A man-sized shadow surrounded by a hemisphere of energy knelt over a body in the grass. Warm moist air rose from the body, but it was a soulless warmth. Opposite the man and outside the mage’s circle stood a shadow far darker than any natural creature had reason to cast. It was easily eight feet in height and wider than a defensive lineman.

  I had to change my original plans. Whatever this demon was, it was the summoner who was the greater threat and had to be dealt with first. A human sacrifice released great power and a witch willing to sacrifice one person finds the next killing that much easier.

  I held my left hand in front of me, two fingers together, and focused. My index finger and middle finger began to glow with the hidden runes that completed an age-old spell of power. As the spell completed, I released one end of my sling. The stone rose slightly on a direct course for the mage’s head. Energy crackled as I poured magic down the stone’s path. There were few protection spells strong enough to stop what my little stone would absorb by the time it reached the witch. The sharp tang of ozone filled the air and lightning erupted from the earth into the rock. The previously quiet night shook with thunder as my stone glowed red hot, then the air shimmered as the stone melted into a blob of magma, as it could no longer sustain its form under the onslaught of the magic energies my spell forced into it.

  The mage could see the threat, but just seeing danger isn’t enough. There was a shattering of power as the mage’s circle was breached. In another instant, his head would be just as shattered.

  The demon reached out and intercepted the molten stone with one enormous hand. The stored energy released into the demon’s paw and it howled its pain as mystical fires played along its arm.

  I cursed and bent to find another stone in the glade’s tall grass.

  The demon shook its injured arm and chunks of seared flesh and splinters of bone flew off. It screamed in rage and pain and I felt the ground vibrate with each stomp of its feet.

  I spotted a stone and snatched it up. I placed it in my sling and stood as I started it spinning. The mage was gone, disappeared into the forest.

  The demon pounded across the grass toward me in a run. I focused again, calming my pounding heart, slowing my breath, steadying my aim. I raised my left arm and again combined my first two fingers. The rune tattoo glowed visibly again. I released the stone and shifted my focus to it. The stone and demon met in the middle of the glade and there was another crackling release of energy as the devil caught the stone in its good hand. For a moment, it stopped and howled as mystical energies crackled against its palm. The distance had been too close for killing power. Then the air vibrated around the demon. It drew back its hand and hurled the stone back the way it had come.

  I threw myself aside as the stone flew past me and embedded itself in a large oak with a crack that sounded like gunfire. Standing, I wrapped the sling about my left wrist. The sling was a great weapon against a distant enemy or even a surprised one, but this called for closer work. I drew the dagger from its sheath in my right boot and went to meet the rushing demon.

  The knife was not my favorite move. You never want to be close enough to a demon to need a knife, but sometimes the damned just refuse to cooperate.

  When it was ten feet away, it lowered its head and raised both arms as if it were intending to tackle me. I leapt from its path and slashed at the bicep on its good arm as it rushed past. Foul smelling blood spurted from the wound. It turned with greater agility than I would have thought possible and slung a ham-hock sized fist at my head.

  I raised my arm to block the blow and tried to back out of reach. The demon’s fist slammed into my arm, momentarily overwhelming my shield and knocking me through the air. I flew a short distance and crashed into a tree trunk. My head banged into the tough bark and stars exploded in my sight.

  I blinked away the flashing lights and heard the demon’s footfalls over the pounding in my head. Sheesh, Walt would be disappointed if he saw this fight. I took a deep breath to clear my vision and a sharp pain shot through my chest. Damn, it felt like a broken rib. No time for that.

  Energy pulsed through the air between us. The demon’s face glowed white hot as it sucked in air.

  Uh oh, a flamoxin. Two guesses as to why they were called fire demons.

  I raised my left hand and pushed more power into my shield. It expanded around me until I felt a push at my back as the shield forced me out from the trunk of the tree. Flame vomited from the demon’s mouth. It gushed toward me, instantly crisping the grass between us. The flames met my shield and flowed around it.

  A flamoxin can call up an ungodly amount of flame, but they need time to prepare. I didn’t plan to give it to him.

  The flames died. For a second even my enhanced vision couldn’t adjust to the sudden change in brightness. Then, against the dark of the forest, I could see the demon rushing toward me larger than an all-pro linebacker and with the temperament of a cape buffalo.

  I raised my knife again and crouched, ready to spring aside. The demon’s eyes glowed as it closed with me. Each exhalation sent a cloud of smoky embers from its nostrils. Hell’s bells. A demon with that much excess rage was more than I wanted to deal with. This was supposed to be a night of barbecue and wine, a quiet social gathering in the country.

  Why did I always get the pissed-off demons?

  My shield was braced against the tree at my back, but I’d left it unanchored to the ground so I’d have mobility. I hoped the tree would hold against the demon’s momentum. If it didn’t, I’d be pinned to the trunk by the nasty tempered brute. At least I didn’t have long to worry.

  The demon, its arms – well, one and a half arms – were outstretched for another attempt to grab and crush, to be followed immediately by dismemberment and devourment.

  It slammed into my shield face first and then its entire body followed. The tree at my back groaned as though in pain. My wrist grew warm as the demon’s inherent magic fought against mine. After half dozen seconds, the demon decided
it wasn’t going to get through that way. It took a step back, looked above my head, and then reached up its good hand and grabbed a pine branch as thick as my thigh. With a loud snap and a shower of needles, the branch broke off.

  What did it think it was going to be able to do with that? If it couldn’t break through then pounding at my shield with a stick wasn’t going to get through. Some demons are known for their intellect, some are not so bright. I was hoping that this was one of the latter.

  A second later, I saw what it had guessed.

  It jabbed the broken end of the branch into the ground beneath my shield and before I could react; it lifted, hard.

  Maybe I could have used a little less mobility.

  For the second time in less than a minute, I found myself flying through the air. I almost had time for a levitation spell when the branches of another tree caught me or at least stopped my forward motion. I didn’t quite drop my knife. My shield had popped out into a sphere as soon as I was airborne, but its inflexible boundary kept me from being able to cling to the branch and I dropped. It wasn’t more than twenty feet to the ground.

  I cancelled my shield so I could land on my feet.

  I’d like to claim I landed cat-nimble and I almost did, but then one foot came down on a rock or a branch, itis difficult to tell them apart when you’re falling, and I dropped onto my backside with a grunt.

  The demon was already after me, pounding through the tall grass with the branch lifted high in his remaining hand.

  I rose and resolved that enough was enough. I gathered my focus.

  There was a bright green flash and a fire spell shot from the opposite side of the clearing and enveloped the demon. In the glow of the flames, I could see Cynthia holding out a wand that sprayed fire like a flame thrower.

  Fire wasn’t going to bother this demon, but it did irritate him. I think he was insulted more than anything else. He stopped his charge at me and turned toward Cynthia.

  Hell. I should have finished it sooner; if I hadn’t been so dead set on stopping the mage who’d summoned it, I could have killed it with my first stone. I shifted my awareness from the demon to the tall black oak that towered near Cynthia, the same one that the demon had damaged with the stone it’d flung at me. If I could drop it between them, I’d force the demon to face me again.