“I’m thinking that girl finally got off the Devil’s drugs and is working a normal, honest job. She deserves to have a life, not be looking after me.” Nana Garfield shook her head. “I won’t do that to her. No, I won’t.”
“Okay, I hear that. What about moving in with me? You’d like Las Vegas. It’s not all casinos and clubs, you know. Plenty of elderly folks like it.”
“Las Vegas is nothing but sin, and that takes some effort, considering I live in LA. Not only that, I’m not gonna inflict myself on you. Don’t you get it, boy?” Nana Garfield frowned.
“It’s not like that.” Trey sighed. “You’re not a burden. You deserve it. I could get a bigger place. I’m sure Zoe won’t mind.”
“No. I won’t be doing that.” Nana Garfield leaned back in her chair and let out a long, labored breath. “You and Charlyce have both made me proud. I’m not ready to meet the Lord yet, but I when I do, I know I can go with fewer regrets since some of my children and grandchildren have escaped from the pain and poverty that I worried y’all would be stuck in. That same pain and poverty I couldn’t help free you from. It’s your time now, and I want to give it to you. You don’t need to be looking after some old woman.”
Trey stood. He didn’t want to raise his voice to his grandmother, but the woman’s intransigence was more frustrating than a level-one bounty who refused to accept that he was outclassed.
From what Charlyce had told Trey, she had come by to visit, only to find the older woman moaning on the floor. Charlyce had called an ambulance, and the ER doctor had said it was a miracle Trey’s grandmother hadn’t shattered her hip.
Trey had the resources, monetary and magical, to protect and save his grandmother if he were around, but he wasn’t around anymore. Not enough, anyway. He was hours away in a different city, not able to drop everything at a moment’s notice and drive to her house.
“Charlyce also told me you haven’t been taking all of your pills,” Trey noted.
“Pills, pills, pills. I take pills to take care of the problems caused by the other pills.” Nana Garfield shook her head. “Sometimes I forget, but it ain’t the end of the world. I’m still here.”
Trey looked down at the floor. His next best plan would require her cooperation, and he had his doubts. He forced a look of confidence onto his face and lifted his head. “If you won’t move in with Charlyce or me, and you won’t let Charlyce move back, maybe we should consider other options.”
“What other options?” Suspicion colored Nana Garfield’s face.
“You know…like a place where older folks gather together but still have some independence.”
“I ain’t living in no home.” Nana Garfield glared at him. “You ain’t sticking me in one. You better bring Mr. Brownstone and every bounty hunter in your agency if you try to force me into one, because I’m gonna fight with every last ounce of my strength.” She lifted her cane and shook it menacingly.
Trey groaned. “No homes. I get it. It’s like I said, a place where you can have some independence, like an assisted-living apartment. You would still have your own place, but there are more people around your own age, and you have people checking in on you.”
“I ain’t need that.” Nana Garfield shook her cane at him again. “I’ve got all the ladies at church. Plenty of friends. Why leave behind my nice house for new friends when I’ve already got them?”
“This house is too much for one old woman to keep up, and you know it.”
“I’m the one who has to live in it, boy. You mind your own place and don’t worry about mine.” Some of the anger faded from Nana Garfield’s eyes. “Besides…”
Trey’s brow furrowed. “Besides?”
Nana Garfield released her cane and pointed to the framed pictures filling a glass cabinet in the corner. “Memories, good and bad—that’s what this place is. I get that for you, Trey, this place is probably what you think of when you think of your old life of pain, but it’s not like that for me.” She sighed. “I’m old, and my time is coming sooner rather than later, but I want to spend my final years with all my memories, not in some strange apartment with a bunch of people I don’t know.” She gestured to the front window. “It makes even less sense now to leave. Because of all you boys getting honest, good-paying jobs and Mr. Brownstone, the neighborhood’s changing. Businesses are coming back. Other young people can get jobs, and jobs bring hope for the future, where there was so little hope here before.”
She smiled. “I don’t want to leave now, when everything’s changing. When the entire neighborhood is coming back to life. No, I want to die in this house. Not anytime soon, Lord willing, but when I do pass, I want it to be here, or in church. That’s fine, too. It will cut the time for my trip to Heaven.”
Trey laughed. “You’re too stubborn for me to win against, Nana.”
“Promise me, Trey. Promise me you won’t try to make me leave.”
“Fine, I won’t.” Trey put up a hand. “But you can’t keep pretending you’ve got everything under control. If you don’t want to move, and you don’t want to let family in, then let me pay for a cleaner to come maybe a few times a week and a nurse to check on you a few times a week.”
Nana Garfield frowned. “I ain’t sure about having strange folks visiting my house, but if that is what it takes to get you to agree, then I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Trey slapped his hand over his breast pocket of his expensive black suit. “Remember, Nana. I’m rich now. I’ve got tons of money, so let me share it with you. Every time I take down one of those level threes or fours, even after the agency cut, it’s a huge amount of money.” He leaned forward, eagerness on his face. “You’re right. The big man gave the boys and me an opportunity and almost all of us took it, so now we’re in a much better place. I know I am, so I can do what I could never before: make sure that my family is taken care of.” He grinned. “I’ll hire all the sweet-ass male nurses you need. Anything to keep you in the home.”
“Oh, I don’t need some hunky man checking in on me.” Nana Garfield considered that for a moment. “But it wouldn’t hurt none, either.”
Chapter Four
“A trip to Earth?” Calal asked, his blond eyebrows raised. “I don’t see why you want to go there. It’s very unpleasant, I’ve heard, and also from what I’ve heard, the magic is still minimal. It needs a few hundred years to become comfortable, I’d say.” The Light Elf gave his friend a look of disgust, unsure why he would want to do so something so foolish.
A cool wind blew over them. Both elves stood in a guard tower at the edge of a high plateau overlooking a modest trade town in an otherwise unremarkable area of Oriceran. Stone and wood buildings were interspersed with the occasional ostentatious metal or crystal tower, but the town was too far from any of the mines in the region to have a major concentration of wealth.
The other Light Elf, Mear, shrugged. “It’d be more interesting than being a guard in a town where nothing ever happens. The most exciting thing we’ve done in the last year was break up that brawl with all those drunken dwarves from that mining caravan. This isn’t why I spent all that time training. This was supposed to be an opportunity, but it feels more like a punishment.”
Calal laughed. “I think that’s a good thing. What do you want, the Great War?” He shuddered. “Random battles against rogue witches, Atlanteans, and Mountain Striders? Peace is underappreciated.”
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that something other than an arrogant gnome or thieving pixie would be nice now and again.” Mear scoffed. “A visit to Earth would at least be interesting. Different. I’ve talked to several people who have gone, and they’ve enjoyed it. The stores are fascinating compared to ours.”
Calal shrugged, disbelief still written on his face. “Travel more around Oriceran if you’re so bored. There’s far more to see here than you’ll find on Earth. Most of their magical races still hide from the rest of the planet. The humans infest it like a cancer, and there are so many of them.”
“All the recent trouble dates back a few decades, but things aren’t too bad, and I think that’s perfect. Rhazdon’s been handled, and the gates are stable, though opening. I was half-afraid the non-magical humans would start pouring over here and bringing all their noxious technology with them, but you barely see them except in the larger cities.” Calal gestured to a convoy of beaked men riding giant, colorful lizards. “They’re a long way from home, aren’t they? I’m surprised to see desert folk out here.”
“I suppose,” Mear answered, his gaze distant. After a moment, he pulled out a gleaming long sword. “This sword is thousands of years old. The magic on it helped one of my ancestors end a Drow rebellion, but what I am doing with it? Nothing. Threatening drunkards into submission.” He scoffed. “I knew I should have gotten a position as a royal guard when I had the chance a hundred years back. At least I could have been involved in the murder investigation. That would have been interesting.”
“Not really.” Calal marched to the edge of the tower, watching the caravan proceed farther into the town. “They kept it tightly contained and closed, and they brought in… Well, it turns out she wasn’t just a human, but they didn’t know that at the time. They were trying their best to keep many things secret.”
The air thickened, and Calal’s hair stood up on the back of his neck. A strange sensation passed through him. His first instinct was to call it magic, but it didn’t feel like any magic he’d ever sensed before in the two centuries of his life.
“Did you feel that?” he asked quietly.
Mear nodded and pointed. “That felt like it came from farther down.” He leapt out of the tower. A quick wind spell allowed him to fall halfway down the steep slope and land as if he’d taken a single step. Calal joined him a moment later.
They were now on the outskirts of the town, on the opposite side from the desert folks’ caravan. A few small warehouses lined the marble streets. A smattering of elves and a few other races stood along the street, gesturing and talking to themselves, confused and concerned looks on their faces.
The strange pulsing energy lingered.
“We’re obviously not the only ones who sense it,” Mear murmured. He summoned a quick shield. “I’ve heard rumors that now that the Drow don’t have a queen, they might try to return to a life of conquest. Attacking a border town would be a good place to test their strength.”
Calal scoffed. “I’ve heard just the opposite. Besides, this doesn’t feel like Drow magic.” Despite his disbelief, his heart pounded, and he also cast a shield spell. Sparkling energy surrounded him.
“Who then? More Rhazdon adherents?”
“It’s probably just someone opening a huge portal or another gnome prank.”
An opaque dark hole appeared in the air ten feet above the ground, and lines of dark green energy crackled across the portal.
“See?” Calal pointed. “Just because something’s a little different, doesn’t make it dangerous. We’ll inform the new arrival about proper protocol once they’re through, though.”
A two-armed, two-legged humanoid figure emerged from the portal and dropped to the ground, landing on its feet with a thud.
Calal didn’t recognize the species. He wasn’t sure if the mottled silver-green metallic outer layer surrounding the creature was its natural skin or some type of armor. Two sharp blades made of the same material extended from the tops of both arms, and although it had a head, the creature lacked any obvious eyes or other distinguishing facial features. Two curled razor-tipped segmented appendages extended out of its shoulders, twitching. They looked as if they could reach farther than the creature’s arms if fully extended.
Calal sighed. From the look of it, the creature probably was some underground race. Maybe a Halican relative or something of that nature. That would explain its appearance and the odd sensation associated with its portal.
Mear stepped forward. The music of a quick Light Elf translation spell followed, although they could be tricky with non-flesh-based races. “May we help you? I’m afraid I don’t recognize your race.” He looked at Calal, who shrugged back, as clueless as his friend. “This is the town of Alazi.”
The new arrival stared at Mear for a moment, not moving. Then a sudden loud roar had Mear jumping back, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“We are the Vax,” the new arrival declared, the translation spell working after all. The deep, foreboding tenor of the original voice remained, unaffected by the spell. “We are the Purifier. Your planet represents a threat. This ends your warning. You will die.” The Purifier slowly raised an arm.
Calal jerked up his hand and made a few quick movements. Melodious notes flowed into an alarm spell to summon additional guards. He followed with a remote transmission spell, his heart racing. Mear had gotten his wish. The latest threat appeared far more dangerous than a drunken dwarf.
“Vax?” Mear murmured. “I know that name, but from where? And what do you mean, you are the Purifier?” He pointed his sword at the Vax. “No matter. You will stand down immediately and surrender. Your threats risk inflaming public unrest. I don’t know if you’re a criminal or if this is a bizarre act of war, but the Great Treaty is in force, and we were hired to protect this town in any event.”
The Purifier took a single step toward Mear, and the elf raised his free hand and murmured an incantation. Strands of rope appeared and wrapped themselves around the arms and legs of the Purifier. The elf smirked, confident of his victory.
The Vax ripped through the ropes with ease and let out a long, low growl.
“If you don’t stand down, we’ll be forced to harm you,” Calal explained. “Please don’t force us to do that.”
The Purifier stopped. He turned his head slightly, but it was hard to know what he was looking at given the lack of eyes. A green bolt blasted from his right blade and struck Mear.
The elf flew backward, hissing in pain. He landed on his back, his sword in his hand. His shield failed, but given the burn on his chest, the magic had saved his life.
The people who had come to see what was happening shouted in alarm, scattering.
Calal pointed his sword and rattled off an incantation. A ring of fireballs appeared and exploded against the Purifier, producing nothing more than minor scorches. A creature immune to fire was a dangerous beast indeed.
Mear leapt to his feet and strengthened his shield. A bright red aura gripped his sword, and he charged the enemy. He swung for the shoulder. He shouted in triumph when the enchanted blade sliced through the creature’s arm and separated it from his body.
The silver-green metallic limb fell to the ground, and the Purifier howled in pain and anger.
Mear stepped back with a cocky grin on his face. “Such threats, but you’re not so powerful, are you, Vax? I can take you apart piece by piece.” He brought his blade back. “You’re not worth such an ancient blade, but so be it.”
Calal’s gaze dipped to the severed limb. He could make out the bloodied back of a red-skinned arm. The Purifier was an armored creature, not some ground-dwelling race of metal and stone.
Silver-green metallic tendrils shot from the Purifier’s wound, twisting around each other and forming the outline of a new limb.
“It’s not over,” Calal shouted.
Mear placed a hand behind him, and an air burst spell launched him forward. He raised his sword for a decapitation strike, but his blade met the neck of the beast with a loud, reverberating clang.
The elf’s eyes widened in surprise, and only his tight grip around the hilt of the blade kept it from flying away as he jerked to a sudden stop. He jumped back, gritting his teeth. There was only a shallow cut in the neck.
“Mear, be careful!” Calal shouted. He took his opportunity to fire a few bolts of light magic. The first made the Purifier stagger back with a shallow blackened hole in hi
s armor. The second barely marred him. Silver-green metallic tendrils filled the hole, and the Purifier’s arm continued to regenerate.
Mear backed up, shaking his head. “Protected your head, did you? Cleverer than I gave you credit for.” He swung again, this time going for the other arm, but his blade bounced right off, leaving only the barest hint of a scratch. He tried a third attack, but this time the Vax met Mear with his own blade.
The Purifier’s weapon sliced through Mear’s enchanted long sword and the top half clattered to the marble stones of the road. Both pieces stopped glowing.
“Impossible,” Mear shouted, still gripping the hilt. He spun in time to avoid the Vax’s blade taking his head off, but one of the razor-tipped shoulder appendages shot forward and speared him through the chest. He coughed up blood, blinking down at his wound in surprise. The shimmer of his shield vanished, and his head lolled forward.
“No!” Calal shouted. He launched more light bolts, but they did nothing.
The Purifier brought Mear’s body closer and pushed him off the bloodied appendage with his armored foot.
A green bolt erupted from the tip of the other appendage and slammed into Calal’s shoulder. Pain exploded through his body as he fell to the ground. Unlike the first attack on Mear, Calal’s shield had done nothing. A huge blackened hole surrounded by charred flesh ran through his shoulder.
In the distance, several other guardsmen were approaching, some zooming along on slabs of earth, others soaring through the air with the help of magic.
Flashes of green light danced across the remaining arm blade of the Purifier. The first arm was halfway regenerated. The appendages swung back and forth, blasting green hellfire into buildings, fleeing people, and animals. Two gnomes emerged from a nearby building and summoned a huge wall of ice in front of the Purifier.
A moment later, bright green beams blasted from the arm blades and carved through the wall, buildings, and anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way, including some of the newly arriving guardsmen and the gnomes. The top of the ice wall fell back, smashing into the ground and sending up a shower of ice shards and dust.
War Of The Four Worlds Page 3
