Vengeance (The Sorcerers' Scourge Series Book 3)

by Michael Arches

  “What do you know about the new guy?” I asked.

  “Nothing, yet, but I will soon. Goodbye for now.”

  She hung up.

  -o-o-o-

  Samoa Beach, near Eureka, California

  WE SPENT SUNDAY ON the beach, which turned out to be Christina’s favorite spot in all the world. It was not as nice as the beaches in Brittany, but that was like looking down on a Ferrari in comparison to a Maserati.

  Sequoia, Christina, and I all waded in the freezing water, and I’d hoped I’d learn from him how to connect with the Infinite, as he liked to say. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t communicate either what the connection was or how he experienced it.

  The three of us walked barefoot along the beach for miles. Whenever a large wave burst onto the beach, Sequoia walked into it and held his hands apart as though receiving some gift. Christina started imitating him, leaving me as the only coward in the bunch.

  “You’re obviously sensing something I do not,” I said to him. “Can you describe it?”

  “I’ve been searching for the right words since we left the grove yesterday. Those trees aren’t particularly ancient, and the oldest ones are more generous. That’s where we need to go next.”

  Translation: no, idiot, I can’t explain a damned thing. You’ve either got it or you don’t. Sorry.

  “Maybe we should visit the bristlecone pines?” I said. “They’re much older than redwoods, aren’t they?”

  “Absolutely, a few are five thousand years old, but they live on remote, high mountaintops near tree line. They’re very hard to reach before the high snowpack melts. We’ll even have trouble reaching the oldest sequoias, about three thousand years of age. They’re up at six thousand feet in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Also snowbound, but not as hard to reach.”

  We walked in silence. After a few minutes, he held his hands open to me as though beseeching something. “The Infinite is everywhere, but it’s easier to sense it in some places. For me, I get the strongest feel for the underlying harmony when I’m with old redwoods or close to a rocky shore. For others, it’s different. We have to find the best place for you to connect for the first time.”

  We walked again in silence, if I ignored Christina’s screams of glee as she outran the waves chasing her up the sand.

  As usual, I could feel no emotion from him. It was like looking at the night stars and only seeing blackness.

  “Maybe I’m not cut out for this kind of magic,” I said.

  He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Anyone with a pulse can do it, but there’s good reason why virtually no one does. You must rigorously control your mind. Only then can you tune in to the Infinite. I sense it here because this is where I’m most comfortable. I was born in this area and have lived most my life next to the vast ocean.”

  When the next big wave began to break, I followed him into the water. It was bone-chillingly cold, and the water rose above my hips, freezing my private parts. The sand underneath my feet shifted under the wave, which reinforced my feeling of disconnection from everything. Nothing he’d said made sense.

  But his face was radiant, relaxed, and he beamed with pure pleasure. “Maybe it’s too noisy here for me to sense something subtle.”

  “Or maybe you’re trying too hard. Frustration radiates from you. I first noticed my connection while watching a pair of eagles in their mating flight over a headland near Orick. I’d been frustrated as my grandfather tried to show me what cannot be seen. So, I gave up trying and simply watched the eagles dance in the sky.”

  Why the hell not do it his way?

  I forgot trying to learn anything from him and simply enjoyed the day on the beach. Lazarus flew overhead, and from time to time, I saw what he did. The sensation of soaring over the coast thrilled me, but neither of us made a connection with the Infinite.

  -o-o-o-

  Monday, April 29th

  U.S. Highway 101

  KATIE DROVE THE RV south, and Lazarus flew overhead. We stopped frequently, whenever Sequoia mentioned a particularly old tree or interesting sight. Eventually, he showed us a particularly old redwood in Humboldt Redwoods State Park. He approached it slowly, with his hands outstretched, like he was going to pray to it.

  When he got close, he shut his eyes and reached out, barely letting his fingers contact the rough bark. He acted like it was a fragile spider web, instead of a massive chunk of wood forty feet in diameter at the base and hundreds of feet high. Its bark was probably over a foot thick, and most of the lower trunk had been blackened by forest fires. This tree had been through a helluva lot in nineteen hundred years, but it was still growing.

  The rest of us touched the tree, too, but not quite as reverently. I stood perfectly still, trying to clear my mind. I hoped to sense something without knowing what. The fact that everyone stayed silent helped me, and the tree’s serenity seemed to flow over me.

  I lost track of time as I stood there, eyes closed, my thoughts focused on my fingertips. Then they began to warm, just slightly, as if it had started to radiate heat.

  After a few seconds, the feeling passed, and I wondered whether I’d imagined it. I’d wanted to feel something.

  I glanced at Sequoia. He kept his touch light, and he seemed relaxed. His face was blank, like he was sleeping.

  I tried that, barely letting the pads of my fingers brush over the gray, rough bark, and I let go of my expectations. The warmth returned, more like a tingling, from inside the tree. This entire massive sentinel glowed with heat so subtly that I couldn’t even be sure it was happening. It sounded preposterous, but the warmth was real under my fingertips.

  I glanced at the others to see if they’d noticed anything. Their faces didn’t show any recognition. “Do you feel the heat?” I asked.

  They shook their heads.

  I glanced at Sequoia again. His eyes remained closed, but a slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. In a barely audible voice, he whispered, “The tree is offering you life energy.”

  I couldn’t suppress my excitement, and the sensation vanished again. It’d been ephemeral, subtle. My legs turned to rubber, and I sank to the ground, sitting cross-legged at the base of the tree.

  Laura sat next to me. “Are you okay? You have the strangest look on your face. It’s like you’re scared and happy at the same time.”

  “That sums it up pretty well. I’m beginning to understand what Sequoia is talking about.”

  “What does he mean?”

  “Don’t know how to put it into words. It’s a feeling of being comfortable with each other, sympathizing. It reminds me of healing, but the sensation is much subtler. I can’t make sense of it. Maybe it will help me with my healing magic.”

  She and I sat together and held hands, letting our magical cores flow together. That soothed me and settled my mind.

  I could stand again, and I touched the tree like before. Nothing.

  After I took a dozen deep breaths and let them out slowly, I concentrated on my fingertips. The warmth started again. It was like the tree was warm-blooded.

  Then magic began to flow into me, warming me much more. Nothing subtle about it. I kept my eyes closed and let the energy pass up my arms into the rest of my body. My body relaxed the way it always did after a successful healing, but no odor of catnip.

  While I focused on my fingertips and ignored the excitement building on the edges of my mind, the transfer of power continued. The others wandered away, leaving me and Sequoia standing with our hands outstretched. He was still relaxed, but he could come here anytime he wanted. I lived more than a thousand miles away from this generous old giant. This would be my only chance, for God only knew how long, to share the energy this tree was offering.

  Slowly, my excitement faded. That made it easier to keep my focus on the redwood.

  Eventually, my legs tired, and I walked back away from the tree and sat. When I stared upward, I could only see a dozen huge branches. The lowest one was a hundred feet above
. It had to be three feet thick. Someone could probably build a whole house on it.

  Gill approached me. “I can tell from the shit-eating grin on your face that something’s happening.”

  “I felt a little bit of that life energy Sequoia’s always talking about.”

  “That’s not just mumbo-jumbo voodoo bullshit?”

  That was the thing about Gill. You never had to wonder what he thought. He sometimes expressed himself crudely, but I didn’t mind because he had a soft heart inside.

  “You know damned well he’s telling the truth,” I said. “He can kick your butt in a fair fight, and there aren’t many who do that, are there?”

  Gill snickered. “Nope, but I’ve always suspected he had some secret weapon, like a super-duper sci-fi force field. I’d wondered whether all that inner harmony bullshit was just a ruse. Not so, eh?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re not that naive. You know he’s on to something, and that’s why you were insistent that I meet him.”

  Gill’s smirked disappeared. “What’s that mean for my budding young protégé?”

  “Too early to tell. I’m hoping that communing with the old trees will help my healing magic, but will it make me stronger on the battlefield? I feel like a kid who’s just walked into a chocolate store for the first time. It smells damned good in here, but I have no idea what any of this means yet.”

  Gill pretended to pop something into his mouth and chew it. “Try the mocha fudge with almonds. Yummy.”

  I walked around the tree, touching its bark at various places. The most interesting spot was one of the fire scars. It was pure black, basically charcoal, and it was the only place I didn’t feel heat. The tree must’ve sealed itself off from that scar to survive since ancient times.

  This redwood had sprouted from a seed when the Roman Empire controlled most of the civilized world. It was already nine hundred years old when William the Conqueror grabbed England. Most surprising of all, it had survived two centuries of relentless logging along the California coast. Now, this wise old monarch was safe inside a state park, and it was free to live much longer.

  -o-o-o-

  WE SPENT MOST OF the day in the park visiting other coast redwoods. And Sequoia seemed to know where all the most interesting specimens were. He and I ran along winding trails for hours, visiting the old giants he liked, just as I used to drop in and visit relatives back in Oklahoma.

  No distractions here. We communed with each ancient being, and I learned to savor that subtle energy they gave me. My success after all those failures raised my spirits, and I felt like I could run forever.

  When we got back to the RV, Gill had his fun poking holes in my ego, but I was too happy to care. Later, when he and I practiced Holar magic, I asked him whether my attack spells had improved.

  “Not seeing much difference,” he said, “except for your ward. That’s much better. Sequoia’s magic seems mostly passive or defensive, too.”

  The others congratulated me on my spiritual progress, but I wasn’t sure I’d connected with the gods. When I asked Sequoia what my breakthrough meant, he shrugged.

  “I have no idea. It’s like learning a new language or visiting a strange city. No one can predict how it will change you. Simply enjoy the experience.”

  Oddest of all, despite having run for miles, I wasn’t hungry. Sequoia and I both skipped dinner.

  -o-o-o-

  Tuesday, April 30th

  SOUTH OF THE STATE park, we drove through large stretches of repeatedly logged forest. The eagle rode inside with us because he would’ve had trouble keeping up as we sped along the highway.

  We took U.S. 101 south until we reached the State Highway 1, and that incredibly windy road led us back to the sea.

  As we drove toward Fort Bragg, Katie stopped dozens of times to let us take pictures or simply stand in awe to appreciate the rugged coastline. The view around each turn dazzled me. The coast road seemed to stretch on forever past empty beaches and dramatic cliffs.

  In Fort Bragg, an old logging town that had seen better days, we ate lunch and talked about where to go next.

  Sequoia sipped his tea and spoke first for a change. “I think Ian would benefit most from visiting the giant sequoias in the central Sierras, assuming the snow has melted enough for us to get close to them.”

  “Are they near anything fun?” Gill asked.

  Sequoia sighed. “Yosemite has several groves, and its waterfalls cast off magic, too. Fortunately, it’s not yet prime tourist season.”

  The old man grinned. “Now you’re talking. Yosemite’s on my bucket list. How about we wander down the coast to Bodega Bay, and then we cut inland to the Sierras?”

  -o-o-o-

  IN MENDOCINO, WE WANDERED the rocky headlands next to the tiny town. I took plenty of pictures of waves crashing against the rocky shore.

  The sunset was particularly dramatic as it lit up a bank of clouds far out to sea with bands of yellow, orange, and red. We sat on a bluff and watched the clouds change in the dying light. Every once in a while, a bit of spray from a breaking wave would hit us. It was damned cold, but I’d noticed that Sequoia was right; the mist contained magic. It was well worth being uncomfortable to strengthen myself for the battles ahead.

  After dark, I spoke to Diana and updated her on my spiritual journey. She asked lots of questions, and I answered them as best I could. It turned out, though, that I couldn’t explain what I was experiencing any better than Sequoia had. Some things just had to be lived instead of described.

  The main thing was that I was making progress in learning a kind of magic that Gill thought no sorcerer could defeat. Slow progress on this path was better than fast strides on any other.

  Chapter 10

  Wednesday, May 1st

  WE FOLLOWED HIGHWAY 1 down the coast from Mendocino toward San Francisco. Because Sequoia had walked this route several times, he knew all the scenic places. None of us wanted to miss a chance for another great picture or a quiet moment. Most memorable of all, Gill and I practiced attack spells on a high promontory west of Bodega Bay. While we were training, seabirds and Lazarus soared alongside the dramatic cliffs. I wasn’t going to forget that experience anytime soon.

  Then we headed east and south into California’s vast farm country. We stopped for a late lunch in Stockton at a crowded diner. After I paid the bill, we headed to the parking lot.

  Four good ol’ boys built like grain silos strolled toward us, and my medallion went nuts. It told me that one deeply tanned giant, at least seven feet tall, was a sorcerer. He must’ve weighed three hundred pounds.

  I whispered to Gill, “Heads up. Incoming ugly.”

  He glanced ahead. “Damn! The big one?”

  “Yep. Think I can take him?”

  He looked me over with a quizzical eye. “Maybe, but all he needs is one punch to put you in the ground for good.”

  “My ward should keep him away.”

  Before Gill could disagree, Sequoia strode past both of us. “I’ll take care of him.”

  I really hated the idea of losing our friend before he could teach me more about tribal magic.

  “Maybe we should just run this time?” I said. “We don’t have to fight every piss-ass gunslinger who wanders by, do we?”

  Sequoia grinned. “Of course not, but in this case, I’d be doing a public service.”

  I wanted to talk him out of it, but Gill grabbed my arm. “This is actually perfect. Watch the master and learn.”

  The four men were jostling one another until the sorcerer held up his hand. Then he glared at Sequoia who waved at him. The giant was eighteen inches taller than our champion and probably weighed twice as much.

  “I challenge you for power!” Then the sorcerer froze.

  The three friends didn’t seem to notice anything odd, and they continued to the diner.

  I cringed as I thought about what would happen if the sorcerer managed to lay a hand on our friend, but there was nothing the rest of us could
do to help.

  As soon as the sorcerer unfroze, he charged.

  Brave Sequoia stood his ground. He looked relaxed, as though waiting in line for a concert or a baseball game.

  The giant bounced backwards at the Indian’s ward.

  Gill chuckled and yelled. “That’s gotta be frustrating. Go get him.”

  With one hand outstretched, the sorcerer screamed in their guttural tongue. The air crackled, and a thick bolt of red lightning shot from his hand toward our friend.

  Katie gasped. I shuddered.

  The lightning flowed through Sequoia’s ward with no trouble and lit him up like a lightbulb.

  I groaned. His protection hadn’t dampened the spell at all.

  Our friend should’ve jerked and shuddered from the power of the bolt. Instead, he stood steady, slowly rocking from one foot to the other. Then he raised one eyebrow and glanced at the sorcerer sideways.

  Gill cackled. “You better show him, lard ass! He’s disrespecting you. Hit him again, harder this time.”

  I bent over and whispered to Gill. “Why isn’t Sequoia’s ward working?”

  “The great warrior doesn’t use it to stop magic. He just sucks up all that nasty energy like its ambrosia from the gods.”

  The sorcerer hit our friend with another spell, pulsed white-hot lightning this time. Each brilliantly bright ball of electricity smacked Sequoia square in the chest and lit him up.

  I cried out, “No!”

  But the Yurok warrior’s smile continued unchanged. Then he actually held out his hands to let the pulses pass through them, as though trying to enjoy the heat. How can he bask in the pain he must be suffering?

  Gill laughed. “Asshole, you’re just making him toasty warm. You’ve really got to smack him harder, pansy!”

  I whispered in my mentor’s ear, “Why are you goading the enemy?”