Praise for the Blade Mage…
“The Blade Mage delivers big-muscled magic and high-octane thrills.”
— Gary Phillips, Matthew Henson and
the Ice temple of Harlem
“Phillip Drayer Duncan has done it again. First with the Assassins, Inc. series and now with The Blade Mage. His characters and the situations they get themselves into and out of have me laughing out loud—and I don’t often, even on the inside. I read two comic writers, Duncan and Robert Asprin’s Myth series.”
— JC Crumpton, Silence in the Garden
“Witty, action-packed, and never one to shy away from the unexpected. Phillip Drayer Duncan is not to be missed.”
— J.H. Fleming, The Queen of Moon and Shadow
…And for Phillip Drayer Duncan's other novels
“Not since the feud between the Hatfields and Mccoys, has anyone made a bunch of hillbillies interesting, and that’s just what Phillip Duncan did with Moonshine Wizard.”
— Jason Fedora, The Truth of Betrayal
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— Kristofer Upjohn, Horror is Art
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Also by Phillip Drayer Duncan
The Blade Mage:
The Blade Mage
Of Song and Shadow
The Memphis Knights
Rebels and Outlaws
Swords and Dust
The Moonshine Wizard:
Moonshine Wizard
The Distilled Shorts Collection:
First Job
The Ogre & The Primates
A Sword Named Sharp
Hunting one Like Us
The Monster Beneath the Bed
The Hunt for the Dark Wizard
Assassins Incorporated:
Assassins Incorporated
Assassins Incorporated: Rehired
Copyright © 2019 Phillip Drayer Duncan
All Rights Reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without prior written consent of the copyright holder, except for the use of brief quotes in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, living, dead, or otherwise, or resemblance to the names of people, places, or organizations, are the either product of the author's messed up imagination, or coincidental. While the copyright for this work of fiction remains with the author, Happy Omega Publishing, LLC assumes all legal responsibility for this publication and the literary work of fiction it contains.
Publisher: Happy Omega Publishing LLC
Cover Art By: German Creative
Interior Art By: Phillip Drayer Duncan
Edited By: J.H. Fleming
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Chapter 1
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I whispered, glaring at Axel.
“You’re the one who said we shouldn’t bring weapons,” he replied.
“Shh,” I said, trying to determine just how close the beast was.
We were side by side and both pressed up against the trunk of a tree. I’d like to say we were strategically staging an ambush, but…we were hiding.
After a moment, I heard crunching footsteps and ragged breathing. The beast was there, just a few feet away.
There was the distinct sound of a man chugging from a bottle, then a voice asked, “Where are you, little mortal men? Too scared to come out and face old Paeter, ehh?”
Axel and I shared a look.
“Come on then, you little cowards,” Paeter said, his words slurring into a snarl. Clearly, he was drunk. That wasn’t going to help our cause.
“You know what would be really handy?” Axel whispered.
“What?” I replied.
“Weapons.”
“We don’t want to hurt him,” I reminded him for the twentieth time. “We’re supposed to bring him in unharmed.”
“And just how do you plan to do that?”
I ignored his question and peeked around the edge of the tree, catching sight of dark hooves in the moonlight. I ducked back into cover, confident he hadn’t seen me. Old Paeter was focused on taking another pull from his bottle.
“Maybe we should try to talk him down,” I said.
“All right,” Axel replied, giving me a serious look and nodding. “I’ll try to talk to him.”
He was already halfway around the tree when I grabbed his arm and pulled him back into hiding. I forced a smile and said, “Maybe I should do the talking.”
“Why?” Axel asked. “You aren’t very good with people.”
“Better than you.”
“If you say so. Just hurry it along. It’s cold out here.”
I glared at him, then built up my courage and slowly stepped around the tree.
As I approached, I couldn’t help but notice just how big Paeter really was. His bottom half alone was the size of a donkey, which, conveniently enough, was exactly what his bottom half was. From the torso up, though, he was a man. A very large man with a drunk temper and a vicious kick.
Axel had told me he was called an onocentaur, but I never knew when Axel was making shit up. Guess I should’ve paid more attention in school. The Cabal had ensured we had a variety of studies around supernatural bestiaries, but I couldn’t be bothered to remember them all. Or even most of them.
Paeter, the onocentaur, noticed me from the corner of his eye and paused mid-drink, watching me.
“Hey there,” I said, giving him a little wave. “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. If we could start—”
I dropped to the ground as the bottle whistled over my head, shattering on the tree behind me.
Before I could get to my feet, a giant fist wrapped around my throat and I was lifted from the ground. Paeter slammed my back up against the tree and held me in place. The strong stench of stale whiskey filtered through my nostrils as he brought his face close to mine. Liquor dribbled from his chin to his beard. As my eyes met his, it occurred to me he might snap my neck. This whole ‘try to talk him down’ thing had, perhaps, been a mistake.
“You asked for a fight, human, and you got one,” he said, spittle flying from the corners of his mouth. Fortunately, most of it hit his beard instead of my face.
Axel’s voice spoked into my mind. “You were right, Wyatt. You’re immensely better with people than me. Immeasurably better. You’re doing great, buddy.”
Ignoring my friend’s mental intrusion, I managed to rasp out, “I don’t want to fight.”
“What?” Paeter asked. The veins in his forehead bulged as his feature
s tightened. Apparently, I’d only managed to piss him off even more. “You think you’re too good to have a scrap with old Paeter? You think I’m weak because I’m an onocentaur? I bet you wouldn’t say that to a centaur!”
Damn. Axel had been right about his species. I envisioned Paeter snapping my neck and ‘Axel was right’ being the last thought in my head when I died. That didn’t sit well with me.
“Everyone thinks so much of a centaur, but my species, what do we get? We get your pity.” He turned his head and spat. “You think us weak, human? I’ll show you how weak I am.”
“It’s not like that,” I struggled to say.
“Then what’s it like? You going to hit me, then? Huh? What’s it going to be?”
It was clear that Paeter had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. While I didn’t have the faintest clue what that was about, I did know he was very drunk and not making a lot of sense. So, I did the only logical thing… I hit him in the face.
There was a blank spot after that.
Pretty sure I time traveled a few seconds into the future, because instead of Paeter’s face in my vision, I was looking at the ground. Also, there was the taste of dirt in my mouth.
Then I heard hooves pounding the ground, headed in my direction.
I rolled to the side to avoid his charge and came up in a crouch. Paeter glared down at me, murder in his eyes.
As much as I hated to admit it, Axel might’ve been right again. We should’ve brought weapons. Of course, we both had brought weapons. It was just that neither of us wanted to admit it to the other. Axel wouldn’t draw his unless I did. Which gave me pause as my hand crept toward the veiled sword on my back.
Before I had to make that decision, Axel darted in behind Paeter and there was a loud smack as my best friend slapped the onocentaur on the butt. Axel squealed with delight and darted away, giggling like a child.
Paeter whirled on him. He’d found a new target for his rage.
Axel turned to face him and dropped into a wrestler-like stance. “Come on, big fella. I always wanted to be a rodeo clown.”
Forgotten, I checked my surroundings and found a thick branch on the ground beside me. I scooped it up and charged forward, swinging it at the back of Paeter’s head. I expected a solid crack as the branched connected with his skull. Unfortunately, in my haste, I hadn’t bothered to check if the branch was rotten.
It was.
Instead of a satisfying crack, there was a soggy plop and my branch broke in half. It was rather lazy about it, too. Couldn’t even be bothered to send splinters flying. It just kind of…fell over.
Paeter whipped back toward me, leading with the back of his hand. I threw up my own hands to cover my face, but his backhand sent me reeling just the same.
That might’ve been okay if I hadn’t then stumbled over one of the broken pieces of rotten wood.
And that might’ve been okay if I didn’t then trip over my own feet.
Down again.
I glanced up as Paeter raised his human hands above his head, intent on pulverizing me. Before he could, Axel’s face appeared over his shoulder. This seemed odd for a moment, then I realized that Axel had jumped on Paeter’s back. He was riding the onocentaur.
“Eight seconds!” Axel screamed, pumping one fist in the air. “How does that Garth Brooks song go?”
“How dare you!” Paeter screamed, reaching over his shoulder to get ahold of my friend. “How dare you try to ride Paeter!”
“Hang in there big guy, just six more seconds!”
Grabbing hold of Axel’s shirt with one hand, Paeter bucked as hard as he could and pulled at the same time. Axel went airborne and disappeared into the trees.
Once more I started for my weapon, wondering if I’d waited too long. Had my hesitance cost my friend his life? Would I find Axel’s skull shattered against the side of a tree? I felt my temper rising.
Paeter charged after Axel and I followed, still contemplating whether I should just end the drunken bastard’s temper tantrum permanently.
But that wasn’t what we were hired to do. In fact, Valerie had been quite clear on that point. Don’t hurt Paeter. Just bring him home safe. Easy enough, right? I should’ve known better. In fact, I did. It was Axel’s idea to take the job. Since we were low on cash, the bills were due, and my fridge was a wasteland, I wasn’t in much of a position to argue. These little sub-contracts we took from Valerie kept the lights on. It was better than digging ditches. Well, usually.
Ahead, I could see Axel trying to rise, but Paeter was too quick. There was no way he could get out of the way in time. Luckily, drunken onocentaurs aren’t any more graceful than drunk humans. His world unbalanced, Paeter zigged to the right, then zagged back to the left, overcorrecting his charge. He went right past Axel and fell forward. His face hit the dead foliage and he slid to an eventual stop.
Again, I questioned whether to draw my sword, but once more, I stayed my hand. Instead, I followed Axel’s example. I took a wide berth around his back legs, darted toward his midsection, threw my leg over his back, and sat down like I was riding a horse.
Now, this might not sound like the brightest of ideas, and that’s because it wasn’t. But when Axel did it, he was just trying to put on a show. He’d just been playing bull rider. I, on the other hand, had a plan. Instead of pumping my fist in the air and counting, I threw my arms around Paeter’s throat and locked him into a rear naked chokehold.
The idea was that if I could cut off his oxygen for a moment, maybe it would settle him down and we could put an end to this thing. What I hadn’t accounted for was how strong his neck muscles were. I also hadn’t accounted for how strong his human hands would be. I’m not a small man, but in comparison, I was like a baby trying to choke out a gorilla.
I remembered then that Valerie had told us Paeter spent his days working a farm and doing some blacksmithing, the old-fashioned way. With a hammer and an anvil. This was made clear to me by the strength of his grip alone.
I thought he might shatter my wrist, but before he could, Axel charged back in, wielding a limb still covered in leaves. More of a twig, really. Perhaps if he’d had time to remove the leaves and whittle off the smaller limbs, he could’ve used it as a switch. As it was, I doubted it would be of any use. I was wrong.
With Paeter’s arms reaching behind him to try and break free of my grip, Axel raised the dead leaves and brushed them ever so gently against Paeter’s unprotected armpits. The inebriated onocentaur tried to pull away, but ended up choking on tickle giggles, which allowed me to tighten my grip around his giant neck. One hand still struggled against my grip, but the other reached out and took hold of Axel’s stick.
A tug of war match ensued, and it was clear who was going to win. Clear to me, anyway. Axel held on despite the fact the drunken chortling onocentaur was reeling him in like a fish.
Then Paeter let go and Axel fell back on his ass.
Rearing up, it was obvious Paeter intended to crush my stupid friend. I gave up the chokehold and put a hand over his eyes, blocking his view. Apparently, the big bastard was even drunker than I’d thought. Without his vision, he stumbled left, staggered right, then tumbled to the side.
I dove clear so as not to get crushed and rolled back up to my feet.
Crawling forward, Paeter used the side of a tree to help himself upright once more. As he came back to his hooves, he reached out for a low-hanging branch to steady himself.
At the same time, I grabbed Axel and pushed him behind me. The onocentaur would charge again. If he didn’t stumble, we were screwed. We were out of options, and frankly, I was tired and just wanted to go home. It was time to end it.
As Paeter charged again, I drew Drynwyn from its sheath on my back and lowered the veil that hid it from the human eye. White light danced from its blade like a flame to gasoline. The forest around us lit up as the ancient druidic blade came to life, revealing itself. This time it appeared as a giant bastard sword, which I took in a two-handed grip.
Paeter’s eyes widened in recognition. Even in his inebriated state, he knew what the sword was, what it represented, and who I was. In that moment, through the drunken cloud of his mind, he realized who it was he’d been tussling with. Who it was he’d been trying to crush.
He cut hard to the side, trying to change direction before he plowed into me. Once more he lost his footing and went down face-first, getting a mouthful of dead leaves and dirt.
From behind me, Axel said, “I thought you said no weapons.”
Glancing back at him, I replied, “Is that a drumstick in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
Axel glared at me, then dropped the veil on the drumstick he did, in fact, have in his pocket. He took it out, twirled it once, then shrugged. “I never leave home without my lucky drumstick. What if I need to drum something?”
“Does that happen a lot?” I asked, ensuring my voice was heavy with sarcasm. “You just happen upon drums laying about without drumsticks?”
Before Axel could reply there was a loud moan from Paeter. A moan which, I realized a moment later, was actually a sob. Still lying with his face in the mud, the onocentaur was crying.
I glanced at Axel but he shrugged in reply. We stood awkwardly for a few moments, before Axel said, “I’ll go speak with him.”
He started forward, but I grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. I didn’t feel like fighting the big guy again if it could be helped.
As if reading my mind, Axel said, “You know, if you had just let me do the talking, things might not have escalated the way they did.”
I glared at him. “Fine, we’ll both go talk to him.”
We eased our way toward the big guy, his blubbering sobs growing louder with each step. As we closed distance with him I said, “Uh, Paeter?”
“What?” he asked in a gravelly voice. “What do you want?”
“Um, well, I…” I glanced at Axel but he didn’t have anything to add.
Of Song and Shadow Page 1
