The Burns Defiance

by N M Thorn

  “Right, right,” muttered Siv, getting back to the story. “Anyway, the wizard of this hole-in-the-wall said that his misfortune is of the supernatural kind, but he couldn’t help him. Not powerful enough, you know? But you and your defective vamp might have what it takes to help him.”

  “Damnit, Gunz,” said Yaroslav, frustration in him almost palpable. “We don’t have time to waste here…”

  “Where are you going?” asked Siv, turning his head to the side to glance at Yaroslav.

  Yaroslav pulled out the Darling Lily device and pressed the home button, showing the map to the horse. “Here.”

  “Lily, darling!” purred Siv, smiling seductively. “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

  The screen of the device lit up with a bouncing red heart. “Aw, Siv, how nice to see you again. You didn’t change a bit. Still the same heartthrob.”

  “Lily, honey, you’re too kind… So, where are these two going?” asked the horse, staring at the screen.

  “Yaginya’s land,” replied Lily nonchalantly. “But they’re moving so slow that it’ll take them another eight days to get there.”

  “Got it, thanks,” said Siv, nodding at Yaroslav to take the device back and turned to Gunz. “Well, how about I make you a deal, fire-wizard. You convince the Lord to give you the horse of my choice from his stable and I’ll take you to Yaginya in two days.”

  “Two days?” asked Gunz, narrowing his eyes at the stallion. “No gimmicks?”

  “Two days. I swear, no gimmicks of any kind,” promised Siv, stamping his hoof into the dusty ground. “Cross my heart, hope to—”

  Abruptly, Siv fell silent, his ears up, his eyes two purple plates, as he noticed Lord Miller approaching the gates. The Lord of the town was a small, scrawny man in his late seventies. His balding head, surrounded by a soft cloud of gray hair, resembled a fluffy dandelion. An old robe that was patched many times over, hung off his narrow shoulders and the front of his shoes which looked even older than his robe, were torn, allowing a set of dirty toes to peek through.

  His dark-amber eyes drilled into Siv and his bushy silver eyebrows went down in a frown.

  “I came in peace,” neighed Siv, “I promise.”

  The old lord pursed his lips, shaking his head. “My servant said that you brought two wizards who can take care of my little problem,” said the Lord, his elderly voice cracking at high notes. “Is that true?” His eyes flashed from Siv and his rider to Gunz and back to the stallion.

  Gunz stepped forward and bowed. “My lord, we would love to help with your problem,” he said as respectfully as he could muster, “but do you mind telling us first what is it that troubles you?”

  “Oh,” mumbled the old lord, scratching the back of his head, making his flyaway hair spike up. “Why don’t you come in, so you can see it with your own eyes.”

  Following Lord Miller, they walked through the front yard that was giving a vibe of abandonment. Tall, windblown grass covered the land in front of a two-story house. The roof with missing tiles was broken here and there and the holes were mended with pieces of wood to prevent leaks during rains. The paint, bleached out by the sunlight, was peeling, bubbling up in places, and the dark patches of uncolored wood showed through. The window shutters hung unevenly, partially torn off their hinges.

  The appearance of the property and the desperate state of the old lord gave Gunz an unpleasant jolt in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at the stallion, wondering what kind of trouble he was about to face, but Siv rounded his eyes, blinking at him with an innocent expression.

  They approached the three steps leading to the entry door and Lord Miller halted, turning his head back. “Okay, just be careful, don’t get him angry.”

  “Who?” asked Gunz, helping Yaroslav to dismount off the horse.

  “I don’t know.” The Lord shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me what I’ve been dealing with for the last few years.” He walked up the steps and opened the door, gesturing for them to come in, but then turned to Siv and wagged his finger. “You’re staying here, four-legged thief.”

  Gunz walked inside, followed by Yaroslav, and they both halted observing the large dark room in shock. A putrid odor with a hardly noticeable trace of Sulphur lingered in the air. It wasn’t heavy, but it was enough to make Gunz’s stomach clench for a moment.

  Every piece of furniture was either demolished completely or damaged to the point where it could hardly be used. The slivers of glass and litter were scattered around the room, concealing the dirty floor beneath it. The windows were covered in a layer of grime so thick that the light from outside couldn’t reach through it. The only place that remained relatively untouched was a large cold fireplace.

  “What the hell happened here?” asked Gunz, turning to Lord Miller. “The war of the worlds?”

  “You tell me,” said the Lord. “Can you cleanse my house from this evil or not?”

  As soon as he said the word “cleanse”, a gust of cold wind rushed through the house. Something lifted a piece of wood in the air and forcefully propelled it at Lord Miller. The old man yelped and hopped aside with amazing speed and agility for a man his age.

  Gunz couldn’t see anything, but his Salamander senses were on the highest alert. Yaroslav peeked at the Darling Lily device and pointed at the bright red apple on the back of it. Gunz opened his magical sight and took in a sharp breath.

  “Holy mother of pearls,” he exhaled. Then he pointed at the entrance door and shouted, “Everybody, out! Now!”

  Pieces of furniture and debris rose up, flying like spears through the air. Avoiding a piece of chair, Gunz rushed to the exit door and held it open, allowing everyone to exit. As Yaroslav was nearing the doorway, something invisible hit him in his back. The impact wasn’t strong, but the vampire coughed, clutching his chest and staggered over the threshold almost falling. Gunz slammed the door shut and leaned his back against it, breathing hard.

  “Did you see what it was?” Yaroslav’s voice sounded in his mind.

  Gunz gave him a tiny nod and turned to the Lord of the town. “Lord Miller, would you mind giving my partner and me a moment?”

  The Lord frowned but didn’t object. He leaned heavily on the hand of his servant for support and walked off, halting a few feet away. Siv decided not to get involved, keeping an equal distance from the house and the owner.

  “What was it?” ask Yaroslav quietly.

  “Hell if I know,” replied Gunz. “It looked like an oversized dog, all covered in long fur. But unlike dogs, this thing was walking on its hind legs, wearing boots and hurtling heavy objects at us like they were feathers.” He scratched his head. “Oh, yeah, it was also hunching. A hunchback dog in boots. Have you ever seen anything like that?”

  For a moment Yaroslav stared at him without blinking and then burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say through the laughter. “It’s really not funny. I’m probably having a nervous breakdown and this laugh is hysterical.” He pressed his hand over his mouth, trying to suppress his laughter.

  “Come on, Slavik,” muttered Gunz. “The Lord is watching us. What the hell is this thing and how can we get rid of it?”

  “It’s a Zlydzen,” explained Yaroslav, finally serious. “Someone must really hate this old man to curse him with an evil house spirit, especially this one.”

  “Oh,” mumbled Gunz lamely. “I have heard of Zlydzens before, but I never imagined they were real.”

  “Why not?” asked Yaroslav, his eyebrows rising. “You are real and I’m real, and this annoying talkative horse, Sivka-Burka, is real. Why can’t an evil house spirit be real?”

  “Remember, anything is possible. Expect the unexpected and be careful,” Mrak Delar’s parting words sounded in Gunz’s mind and he bit his lip. “You’re right,” he agreed. “So, how can we get rid of it?”

  “That’s not going to be easy,” started Yaroslav with a sigh. “Nothing can kill it. You can shoot it or cut its head off – it’ll survive. Even
if you burn it to ashes with your Salamander’s fire, it’ll still rise. There are only two ways to rid a household of a Zlydzen. You either capture it and drown it in a swamp, or you lock it in a box and bury it in the crossroads.”

  Gunz thought for a moment and a slow smile transformed his face as an idea flashed through his mind. “Slavik, I think we can do it. The only thing I would need is about an hour to place a fireproofing spell on this house and your help. Do you think you can handle it?” He quickly explained his plan and Yaroslav nodded to him.

  “Worth trying,” he agreed.

  “My lord, I think we can help you,” said Gunz approaching the Lord and his servant. “The monster that has been destroying your life is a Zlydzen and my partner and I can help you get rid of it for a small price.”

  “Name it and it’s yours,” promised the Lord, hope gleaming in his amber eyes.

  “We just need one horse from your stable,” said Gunz. “You give us a horse of our choice and we cleanse your property.”

  “After you are done, I’ll walk you to the stable myself. Any horse you pick is yours,” said the Lord of the town, extending his hand, crossed by bumpy blue veins.

  Gunz shook his hand and asked, “Is there anyone in the house besides you and your servant?”

  “No,” replied the Lord with a heavy sigh. “Since that Zlydzen showed up, all my servants, my wife, my kids – everyone left me… It just the two of us here now.”

  “Okay, I need you and your servant to stay away from the house for about two hours, to be safe. Can you do it for me, my lord?”

  “Yes, of course, anything you ask… We’ll go to the stable. It’s on the other side of the property.”

  “And one more thing, my lord,” added Gunz. “Do you have a strong box with a tight lid? Doesn’t have to be big.”

  The Lord waved at his servant and ordered him to bring a box. A few minutes later, the servant showed up with a sturdy iron box. It had a lid that was closed and locked with a small hook. Gunz carefully examined the box, making sure there were no holes or cracks. It was perfect. He thanked the Lord and waited for both of them to leave the area. Then he asked Siv to leave too. He wasn’t sure what to expect and he didn’t want to see the stallion getting hurt in the crossfire. Nevertheless, he wasn’t surprised when the horse eagerly agreed and disappeared behind the corner of the house in a quick gallop.

  When they were gone, Gunz carefully opened the door, letting Yaroslav in first. Then he locked the door from the inside and conjured a few light orbs, sending them up in the air. He opened his magical sight and scanned the house. Zlydzen was sitting on top of the fireplace with his legs crossed, observing everything he was doing with a cocky smirk on its dog face.

  “It’s here, on top of the fireplace. Ready?” Gunz asked Yaroslav, communicating using their psychic connection.

  “Let’s get it over with,” replied Yaroslav, turning toward the fireplace. He unsheathed his katana and bent his knees slightly, ready to spring into action.

  Gunz channeled his magic and started to weave the spell, slowly and carefully making sure that everything inside the house – the left-over furniture, walls, ceiling and even windows – was resistant to the fire and his elemental energy. As he did that, he kept his Salamander senses sharp and vigilant, expecting an attack.

  As soon as he said the first words of the spell, Zlydzen got agitated. It hopped off the fireplace and slowly shuffled toward Gunz, dragging his feet in the massive boots. A wave of dark energy swept around him as the evil spirit grew angrier with every passing second.

  “Slavik, get ready,” muttered Gunz without stopping what he was doing. “It’s right behind me and it’s angry.”

  Just as he finished talking, he heard a loud crack and felt something move through the air with considerable speed. He didn’t turn to see what was going on, confident that Yaroslav would take care of whatever it was.

  A soft breeze touched the back of his neck as Yaroslav’s katana whistled through the air, deflecting the flying object. Zlydzen squealed, his voice unexpectantly loud, and the walls of the house trembled. Dust fell from the ceiling and a heavy wind rushed through the room, lifting the dirt and litter off the floor. For some reason, the stench of burnt hair spread around even though nothing was burning. The air swirled in a wild merry-go-round, and a dusty tornado filled with debris originated in the middle of the room. The wind howled, or maybe it was Zlydzen’s cry, as the dark funnel moved toward Gunz.

  “I got it,” Yaroslav shouted over the noise of the twisting air, rising high to the ceiling. He dove inside the twisting funnel and a moment later, the tornado dissipated.

  Completely trusting Yaroslav to protect him, Gunz continued his work. All hell broke loose behind his back, but he ignored it – the howling of the wind, banging and whistling of projectiles thrown by Zlydzen, wild squeals of the angry spirit and Yaroslav’s diabolical laughter as he wielded his katana to deflect whatever the spirit was throwing at him.

  “Slavik, slow down,” Gunz warned him, thinking that Yaroslav’s collar was feeding on his vampiric essence, making him weak and vulnerable. “You’ll drain yourself. You could hardly walk on the way here.”

  “I feel strangely recharged,” replied Yaroslav. “Almost like I have an adrenalin rush. And we both know, I can’t experience that anymore. But whatever Zlydzen hit me with earlier, gave me an energy burst.”

  “Just be careful. I’m almost done,” Gunz said aloud and immediately regretted his mistake.

  “You’re almost done, little wizard?” screeched Zlydzen and cackled. “We’ll see about that.”

  The wind in the house died down and a low rumbling noise invaded his senses. It wasn’t just a sound. He could feel the vibration with his skin. It seemed like every brick in the walls of this house was moving, grinding against each other and dancing a crazy jig, threatening to fall apart at any moment, burying them all under rocks and debris.

  Gunz glanced to the right, noticing the soft glow of the magical energy in the walls. Just one more foot and the circle of protective magic would be complete. Something fell with a loud jingle and he heard Yaroslav’s strangled gasp. Gunz threw a quick look over his shoulder and saw the vampire levitating a few inches above the floor, his arms pinned to his body by a shadowy hoop of dark energy. The hoop was squeezing tighter despite Yaroslav’s vigorous struggle.

  “Slavik, I need to finish it, give me a moment,” thought Gunz, returning to his spell.

  He turned back to what he was doing, slowly completing the circle of the fireproofing magic. When he could see the red glow of his spell covering the entire surface of all walls in the house, he touched it with his fingers and whispered, “Circula Archni.” For a heartbeat, the house lit up with a bright scarlet glow, confirming that his enchantment was complete.

  Gunz turned around and smirked at Zlydzen who was holding Yaroslav in the deadly grip of his malignant magic. Zlydzen screeched and howled, the earsplitting sounds crushing Gunz’s eardrums. He growled, anger igniting the fire within him.

  “Silenties,” he hissed pointing at the evil house spirit and Zlydzen fell silent, his dog-like face contorted by fear. Gunz didn’t wait for the spirit to recover and hit him with the second spell. “Ventius!”

  A well-targeted hurricane-force blast rushed through the house, slamming the spirit in its barrel chest. The spirit opened its mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Zlydzen flew through the air, phased through the fireplace, and disappeared on the other side. The hoop of his dark magic dissipated, releasing Yaroslav.

  “Now, out of here,” commanded Gunz quietly and started channeling the energy of the Fire. Yaroslav opened the box and pushed it next to Gunz’s feet. Then he left the house and Gunz heard the click of the lock.

  With regret, Gunz wished he could use his full Salamander’s power and revert into his natural state. That would make everything so much faster and easier, but he knew that it wasn’t possible. He channeled as much magical energy of the nexus as
he could, connecting with the Fire. Just like he did in the forest, he raised his arms up, but this time, an enormous fireball was twirling between his hands, crackling with sparks. The fireball grew bigger and bigger, as Gunz channeled more fire energy into it.

  When he felt he had as much energy as he could gather, he brought his hands together. The fireball exploded with a thunderous bang and a wall of fire swept through the house, filling every corner with smoldering flames. Gunz stilled, noticing with delight that his protection spell was working perfectly well. Although the house inside looked like a raging inferno, the building itself and the left-over furniture weren’t burning.

  Zlydzen left his hidey-hole behind the fireplace and levitated in the air attempting to avoid the flames. Gunz raised his hand up, pointing at the evil spirit and a ray of purifying fire hit it straight in its chest, setting the fur ablaze. A moment later, Zlydzen was gone, devoured by the merciless flames. A small pile of ash with boots in the middle of it, was all that remained of the wicked creature.

  Gunz ordered the fire to cease, staring at the ash and the boots with curiosity. But he knew that the Zlydzen couldn’t be killed by fire and he had a very limited window of opportunity before it would rise again.

  Swiftly, he swept all the ashes into the box, threw the boots on top of the ashes and closed the lid, locking it with the hook. Holding the box in his hands, he ran to the door, breaking through the half-rotten wood with one kick of his leg. Yaroslav and Siv were already waiting for him by the steps.

  Gunz shoved the box into Yaroslav’s hands and flew up on top of Siv’s back, grabbing the stallion’s golden mane. “Siv, can you keep up with Yaroslav?” he asked. “Him and I cannot be separated by more than a hundred feet.”

  “What are you? Lovers?” asked Siv mockingly, rolling his eyes. “You can’t be separated… Let’s see if your defective vamp can keep up with me.”

  “I’m not defective,” growled Yaroslav, for the first time showing his true annoyance with the cocky horse. “You will—”