The ring was similar to those used on TV in MMA fights, but was much older. It had years’ worth of tears, cheap patches, and brown stains, which could only be blood. And of course, they’d altered their ‘circle’ to be more vicious. The original cage came up to his neck, just like on TV. But they’d reinforced it with iron and modified the top by adding an actual, wrestling style, steel cage. It extended all the way to ceiling, ensuring the fighters wouldn’t be able to escape. A cross between a fighter’s ring and a prison cell.
Bert glanced up at the ceiling. The moon shined down through the ancient factory skylights, making him feel even more like a prisoner. Oddly, though, he noticed a strange, crystal-like object hanging from the center of the ceiling. Perhaps it was the were-dog version of a disco ball. It was a strange decoration, whatever it was.
He turned in a slow circle, taking in the crowd. The ring sat in one of the larger buildings with an open floor. Any pallets or dead machinery had been removed so the were-dogs could create their very own coliseum. They’d even built a crude stage around the ring and filled the perimeter with an assortment of old lawn chairs. On one side they’d even managed to add some bleachers.
There had to be at least a hundred spectators and they were all were-creatures. There were so many at this point he wasn’t sure they could all just be of the canine variety. Their ranks had doubled since the last time he’d interacted with them. Howard was full of shit. They were building an army.
As much as he wondered what they were up to, he had more pressing concerns. Particularly, the giant ‘concern’ standing across the ring from him with murder in his eyes. His opponent seemed right at home in the cage, liked he’d crawled out of an episode of Monday night wrestling. He had a couple of feet on Bert, an extra hundred pounds of muscle, and enough scars to open a galleria. He was barefoot, bare chested, and bald, only wearing an old pair of jeans. He grinned at Bert.
Bert smiled back. No reason to be rude.
There was a distinct click behind him and he realized the cage door had been locked. His sword and gun, along with his jacket and hoodie, sat outside the cage. Howard had said he could only choose one weapon. Thinking he didn’t want to decapitate or maim his opponent, he’d chosen his staff instead of Sharp. In hindsight, he wished he’d brought a bazooka.
Despite his opponent’s resemblance to a brick wall, his staff would be enough to handle an overgrown were-dog. Even if he turned into a really big dog. He hedged his bet on either Great Dane or Bull Mastiff.
The crowd fell silent and Bert turned to see Howard approach the stage. All eyes were on him.
Howard’s gaze scanned the room. Brandishing his stupid smile, he said, “My friends, today we have a special treat! A wizard has agreed to fight our champion!”
Roars tore through the crowd.
Howard moved closer to Bert and grinned at him through the cage. “You asked me if I knew about a unique item in our area. I may have misled you. I don’t know what it is, or where it is, but I intend to find it myself.” He paused to chuckle. “Someone actually recommended that I hire you to find it for us, but we don’t need you, wizard. And we don’t need the Hand of Magic. It’s time for the were-creatures to rise. It’s time for my people to no longer live in fear. We’re going to find it, and with the aid of our new allies, we’re going to ascend to power. We’ll be free.”
It was Bert’s turn to laugh. “You really think that’s going to work out?”
“Yes, I do,” Howard said. “Something was stolen and someone wants it back. They’re willing to go to great lengths to get it, and they’re powerful. If we align with them, not even the Hand can stop us. By all accounts, you’re a good man, Waylon, but the needs of my pack come first. So, I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave here alive.”
“No problem,” Bert replied casually. “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me who your new friends are?”
“Not a chance,” Howard replied, turning from the cage.
“One more thing, Howard,” Bert said, raising his voice so the crowd could hear. “It’s not freedom you seek. You and your people are as free as anyone else. It’s power you seek. Plain and simple.”
“Of course it is,” Howard said, spreading his arms and gesturing around the room. He was no longer addressing Bert. He was speaking to the crowd. “Power is freedom. We gain our liberty through the blood on our teeth!”
The were-creatures ate it up. Their applause and cheers tore through the makeshift arena. Some even turned into dogs and barked their approval.
Howard raised his hands to silence the crowd and turned back toward Bert. “You see, we aren’t like the rest of you. We aren’t limited to one form. We are at the top of the fucking food chain and deserve to be kings!”
Again, the crowd erupted in applause.
“Right,” Bert said, laughing. Many in the crowd were glaring at him, hurling insults, and some even growled. He continued, “Look, you guys are strong. You’ve banded together and that makes you even stronger, but there are things out there that can, and will, rip you to shreds if you stick to this path. You aren’t gods.”
“Is it fear, or arrogance, that makes you so bold?” Howard asked, mocking him. “Today you will witness a taste of our power. You will face our undefeated champion, and when he breaks your body you’ll know that it was the were-creatures who defeated you, wizard!”
The factory trembled with the approving roar of the crowd. Howard screamed, “Let the battle begin!”
Bert looked back at his opponent, who in turned grinned at him. I guess smiling like a jackass is just one of the pack rules, he thought. The champ made no move, but just stared at him. Bert stared back. The champ stared some more. Bert stared back some more. Then the champ started taking off his pants. Still smiling, he dropped his jeans to floor and kicked them to the side. He stood naked in the ring, still staring at Bert.
“Uh, what kind of fight is this exactly?” Bert asked.
In response, the giant naked man cracked his knuckles.
“I’m pretty sure this isn’t what I signed up for,” Bert said. “Just to be clear, I’m not into bestiality.”
The naked champion pounded his chest, roared to the crowd, and charged. Bert rolled out of the way and came up to his feet yelling, “No means no! Stranger Danger!”
Bert moved around the ring, his foe circling him and waiting for a chance to strike. The crowd loved it.
Enough of this, Bert thought, and prepared a spell. He held position and the champ moved in to attack. As the man charged him, Bert released the energy in one big force spell… and nothing happened.
All the energy he’d fired went out the end of his staff, then changed direction and headed toward the ceiling. No, he thought, not the ceiling, but that strange crystal he’d noticed before. It wasn’t a decoration at all. It absorbed magical energy.
He muttered, “Oh, shit.” Then his opponent was on him. The champ grabbed him by the face and slammed his back against the cage. Then, taking Bert by the shirt, the big man lifted him off the ground and leaned his smiling face toward Bert’s. He held an arrogant sneer, enjoying the exacerbation on the powerless wizard’s face.
Angry, Bert grinned back as he planted his feet against the back of the steel cage and lunged forward. Unprepared for the move, the champ lost his grip as Bert shot forward and slammed his forehead against the bigger man’s nose. Then he kicked him in the naked groin. The champ stumbled back, one hand over his bloody nose, and the other holding his groin.
“Jackass,” Bert said. “That’s why you don’t come to a steel cage fight buck ass naked.”
The champ removed his hand from his nose and roared to the crowd, flinging blood. The crowd echoed his roar in a mix of human cheer and animalistic howls.
Well, Bert said, “This can’t be good.”
The man’s face began to distort and grow. Skin stretched over bulging muscles and looked as though it would tear. His battle cry became less human. Having recently dealt with a
were-bear, Bert felt his were-quota was reached for the month and moved into to strike, swinging his staff like a baseball bat.
The champ threw up his arms to absorb the blows, but didn’t try to stop him. Probably, Bert thought, because he wasn’t doing any damage. The man was nonplussed by each strike, so Bert took a lower grip on the staff, and tried to swing even harder.
Still unaffected, his opponent surged forward, lifted Bert off the ground, and threw him to the other side of the ring.
Groggy, and a little unbalanced, Bert struggled for his feet, afraid at any moment he’d have a large dog ripping at his throat. As he rose he cried, “Good doggie! Good… Oh.”
It wasn’t a dog. It wasn’t even in the canine family. The creature snorted and lowered its horns in his direction. Its front foot lifted off the ground, and he knew it was about to charge.
“Okay,” Bert said, staring at his opponent. “I’m in a cage match against a bull. Why wouldn’t I be?”
The bull charged. He dove to the side as the beast’s massive head smashed against the steel cage. The entire ring shook, and Bert clambered back up to his feet. The bull snorted, shook its head, and turned back to face him.
It charged again, and Bert dove again. This time, however, one of the bull’s front legs turned back into a human arm and caught him by the foot. The bull swung his body like a whip, smashing him against the mat, and then pitched him across the ring. Bert landed in a pile and fought to gain his feet.
Well, at least the crowd’s enjoying this, he thought as he glanced over his shoulder. Like a centaur, the upper half of his opponent’s body became human again. He basked in the elation of the crowd, pumping his fists in the air to their shouts of approval.
Obviously, this guy had been a were-bull for a long time. He knew how to transition between his two forms seamlessly, something it took many were-creatures a lifetime to master. This guy had it down, which only served to make him that much more dangerous. But it also meant that Bert knew what his opponent could do.
He didn’t know what the crystal was, or how it worked, but clearly it soaked up magical energy. No, that wasn’t quite right. If it soaked up all magical energy, his opponent wouldn’t be able to change forms. It only vacuumed the energy he’d manipulated and casted. So, it wasn’t a natural phenomenon, but rather, something someone had created specifically to render mages useless. That was next level, but so was everything else he’d dealt with lately. Whoever the were-creatures had allied with was powerful, but he didn’t have time to worry about that now. If the crystal only soaked up magic he cast outward, then in theory, he could still cast spells on or around himself. That limited him, but it meant he wasn’t powerless. It was time to even the odds.
His opponent turned full bull again and charged. He’d be expecting Bert to dive left or right, so this time he went forward. As the distance closed between them, Bert cast a simple jump spell that sent him over the bull’s head. The champ’s top half turned human again and tried to catch him. His staff might not have been useful casting attack magic in the ring, but it was still a blunt object. Using it like a spear, he jabbed it into his opponent’s eye.
The were-bull cried and lowered his head toward the floor, causing Bert to land on its back. He dropped his staff and held on for dear life as the bull started to buck.
“One!” he screamed, trying not to laugh. Despite the fact he was the outsider, the crowd roared with laughter. About time I get a few on my side, he thought, and screamed, “Two!”
The bull kicked harder and Bert tried to think of a plan to dismount. “Three!”
Engulfed with rage, the bull kicked harder, dislodging him and sending him flying. Bert hit the mat with a thud and rolled to his feet, “Damn! Only needed 5 more seconds!”
The bull turned to charge him again as Bert dove for his staff and came up to his feet. His opponent glared at him but didn’t immediately attack. Good, Bert thought, asshole knows this isn’t going to be easy anymore.
Again, Bert pulled as much energy as he could to his staff.
Again, the bull charged. This time Bert went low, manipulating the energy in his staff to spread along its own wooden shaft, causing it to violently push against anything that touched it. He hurled it between the bull’s oncoming legs like a boomerang. When the beast’s powerful legs hit the staff, it pushed back with equal force, causing the bull to trip, slide, and smash its face against the side of the cage.
Bert scooped up his staff and readied himself. The bull began to stand. Bert realized that neither opponent was gaining an advantage. He needed a plan. Glancing to the ceiling he got an idea.
The bull charged. This time Bert launched himself in the air early to stay out of the bull’s human reach. As he went over the beast’s head, it reared its back legs to buck, thinking he planned on another ride. Exactly as Bert had hoped. Carefully planning his landing, Bert threw every bit of energy he could muster into another jump spell. As soon as his feet touched the back of the bull it bucked. At the same moment, Bert released the energy into a jump. Between the bull’s power and his own energy manipulation, he flew straight up to the ceiling and swung his staff like a baseball bat at the power-sapping crystal. It shattered like a piñata.
The crowd went silent.
Bert landed softly on his feet, his full arsenal of spells at his disposal. His opponent stared at him uneasily, snorting and pacing at the other end of the ring.
Bert drew power, ignoring the murmurs of the crowd as his eyes started glowing with blue light. That’s right, bitches, he thought, time to call the vet. He continued gathering energy until he thought he would pop.
When the bull charged again, he fired a force spell right into the center of its forehead, hurling the beast across the ring and slamming it into the steel cage. The metal groaned with the weight of the creature, but held.
To say the crowd wasn’t pleased by this turn of events would’ve been a drastic understatement. The were-critters were livid. They began throwing random objects at the cage. Most didn’t make it through, but a few did. A beer bottle zipped past Bert’s head and shattered against the far side. He summoned a minor protection spell, just in case someone else had better aim, or a gun.
Despite the crowd’s fury, he focused on his opponent. The tough bastard was actually getting back to his feet. Bert was impressed. The bull shook its head and snorted at him. Bert began drawing energy again.
The bull started meandering around the outside, circling him like a shark. Bert stepped to the middle and allowed him the perimeter. Building speed, his opponent began running circles around the ring. The effect was dizzying, but it was obvious what the champ was planning. He’d keep moving in circles until Bert wasn’t prepared, and then he’d cut in, skewering the wizard with his long horns.
The sheer power of the bull, pushing its mass around the ring. He was creating energy. The roar of the angry crowd. They were creating energy, too. Both were creating the very energy a mage used to cast spells. Bert took advantage, and his spell was shaping up to be of the devastating variety. He chuckled inwardly, thinking maybe he should pause to thank his opponent for helping him establish a spell that was out of his league. Instead, he continued manipulating the energy, using it to encourage the beast to move faster. Subtly, at first, his opponent wouldn’t even realize Bert was helping him gain speed.
Murmurs tore through the crowd again as people began to notice a change in the room. His glowing blue eyes were blazing now, and the air had taken on a thick static quality, as though it would burst. The bull was little more than a blur now and still building speed. Faster and faster. The wind put off by the bull’s stampede began to pick up speed as well. Come on, Bert thought, just a little bit more.
The bull turned its head and prepared to attack. Screaming, Bert released the full force of the energy, casting his spell. The bull mooed in horror as its huge frame lifted off the ground and continued spinning around the ring in a vortex. It flew circles above Bert’s head, as though
it were about to be sent to Oz.
Horror swept the crowd as they saw their champion swept up into the tornado.
Struggling to control the massive spell, Bert forced the vortex in one direction and smashed his little tornado against the side of the cage. The bull struck against the steel, and this time it didn’t hold. The metal groaned and rivets popped like gun shots, and the wall of the caged exploded outward. Like ants, the crowd tried to flee, but many didn’t escape the falling wall, nor the bull, who landed on top of the pile. Unconscious, the champ changed back into a naked human.
Bert was worn out, but didn’t have time to stall. The were-creatures were frightened but furious, and many were glaring in his direction. Before the match, he’d tied his gun belt around his sword and jacket, so when he summoned Sharp all of his gear flew to his hand in a pile.
“A shame you didn’t go into professional wrestling instead of wizarding,” Sharp said. “That wasn’t a half bad performance. Too bad your career is going to be cut short early.”
“What do you mean?” Bert asked, as he secured his gun belt around his waist.
“Your buddy Howard is going to declare you are a cheater for using magic.”
“Of course he is. Asshole.”
“He’ll call for your execution.”
“Oh, good.”
“However, I don’t recall the Hand being advocates of fur-baby law.”
“So, time to make a daring escape?” Bert asked.
Half the crowd shouted curses and threats, while the other half growled at him in dog form.
“There’s a thin line between daring and running like a coward,” Sharp said. “You pick.”
Howard stood and waved his arms, silencing his people once again. His eyes were fixed on Bert, but it was clear he was addressing the pack. “Do you see what these wizards do? They come to us uninvited and when we give them a chance to prove themselves, they show nothing but cowardice. The pack will not tolerate a cheater!”
The crowd went crazy. A deafening mix of human screams and canine barking.
Moonshine Wizard Page 21