by Chris Lowry
And once it was true, it must always be true.
Perhaps the Judge just wanted magic more than anything else in this world, to aid in his fight against the interlopers.
“At great cost,” said Knu.
She snapped her fingers again and the scene spun out of sight as the lights winked out.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“The Sidhe did not stop,” she said.
The sun came up on a different day with a different view. The training ground was replaced by a verdant field outside of what looked like Edinburgh castle, high on a hilltop all alone.
There was a black rent in one of the hills opposite the castle, and the field between was chaos.
Men fought against creatures of myth and imagination. The Sidhe were tall and beautiful, almost painful to look upon, even in my memory state. A group of them sat on the back of giant unicorns sheathed in battle armor, their hooves pawing at the ground.
Two dozen or so were arrayed near the hole in the hill as creatures poured through. It wasn’t a torrent, but a steady stream of Trolls, Goblins, Pixies, and Elves.
Not the good long haired fellows that were amazing with acrobatics and bows, but long lithe creatures with six foot swords and angry red eyes.
What history we had of the elvish in my day was whitewashed fantasy, tainted by fantasy authors and bodice rippers who wanted the deadly creatures to be portrayed in a altruistic light.
Those same PR person’s who turned blood sucking vampires into naughty imps no more harmful than mosquitos took one of the most deadly fighting creatures since the beginning of time and made them cookie makers, and noble creatures who followed light and justice.
I’d fought a contingent of elves once in Nagasaki at the end of the Sidhe War. A platoon of thirty had broken through the veil while we were distracted in the Black Forest.
The Judge barely poofed eighty of us there to set up a holding engagement until help could arrive.
Their numbers swelled to ninety despite our effort to inflect heavy losses.
We did.
So did they, taking our eighty defenders down to two.
We were able to stop them.
The Allies covered it up for us with a story about a hydrogen bomb after they dropped the first on Hiroshima.
But the truth was harsher than that.
Elves meant bad business for Earth.
The Judge sat astride a stallion on the far side of the field, like a conductor directing an orchestra of destruction.
He saw the Elves break through and motioned a cavalry unit to flank the Sidhe.
None survived.
“They can’t win,” I said to Knu.
They must have though. Because I existed in the future to fight them again, another incursion through the veil.
Looking at the carnage below, I couldn’t believe it was true.
I must have been from an alternative reality. Some other Universe parallel to this one, a place where the Judge was magic, where the Judge had the power to win against such odds.
Knu snapped and we popped over to the other side of battle, behind the Judge on his horse.
Now I could see better.
Things looked worse from here.
It wasn’t just broken bodies, blood, the screaming of dying men. It was that there was so much of it.
Ten thousand men lay dead on the field, thousands more dying each minute. The Sidhe were outnumbered, but their magic and arms outclassed the Judge and his human army.
It wasn’t even a delaying fight, unless the Sidhe were somehow inconvenienced at having to slip through the ich and ichor in their advance toward the castle.
I called to mind a thought and prepared to fight.
“You cannot,” Knu cautioned and touched my arm.
“Bullshit,” I countered. “Magic is thought and thought is reality. I can think myself real and give them help.”
She shook her head and it broke my heart.
“Look at them,” I screamed. “They’re losing.”
She nodded.
“I can’t help them!”
She gripped my arm then, and I felt her strength as I crumpled to my knees.
“I. Said. No.”
Size matters not.
She used her chin to indicate the direction I should look, but didn’t let go of my arm.
I saw Shannon and Radar standing in ritual circles drawn in the dirt. None of the humans were anywhere near to keep the circle whole and unbroken.
What I didn’t understand was the larger circle that extended around the two leprechauns and included the Judge.
No wonder he was having trouble directing the battle.
The son of a bitch was scared and hiding behind a shield made by the wee one’s.
I struggled to make my feet and Knu clenched harder. It felt like the bones in my forearm were grinding together.
“Don’t make me bind you.”
I grumbled and moped, glaring at the Sidhe advance and the Judge.
He jumped off his horse, and stripped the skins from his shoulders. He shed the plates guarding his shins and arms, dropped the round wooden shield from his back as he walked toward Shannon.
The Wee Ones were an arm’s length apart, and though I couldn’t see the symbols and lines etched in the dirt around them, I could feel the waves of power radiating from their position.
“The leprechaun and gnome are an ancient power,” Knu recited beside me, lecturing even as we watched destruction approach like a tide. “Their magic is the magic of the creation of all the Universes, manifested in the building of life. As such, it is the power of the gods.”
“In a little bitty vessel,” I quipped.
She squeezed tighter.
I whined a little bit to let her know it hurt.
“What are they tapping into? The Leyline in Scotland?”
“That and beyond,” she said. “There are nexus, crossroads where the lines intersect not just here, but in multiple universes. These aren’t just fonts of power, they are also where the veil is the thinnest.”
She looked at me as she said this.
I figured she was imparting something important, so I tried to forget about fighting and focus on what she was telling me.
“Nexus. Doorways. Power. Got it.”
She nodded and made me look at the Judge.
He got close to Shannon, only wearing his kilt again.
“He can’t break the circle,” I whispered.
“Some magic is stronger than the unbroken line,” Knu answered.
The Judge reached through the circle around the leprechaun. The field shimmered as his arm slid through. He hesitated for just a moment, just one second, and I saw his face.
He was crying.
Fat swollen tears rolled down his cheeks and trembled on his quivering lips.
The Judge grabbed Shannon and yanked him back through the circle. He threw him across the flat stone, yanked out a knife and slit the Wee One’s throat.
Radar cried out as blood leaked from his compatriot.
The Judge moved faster than I had even seen anyone move, an athletic grace that belonged anywhere other than the battlefield.
He reached out, yanked Radar through his circle and slit his throat on top of his friend’s.
The small circles collapsed, sending a wave of energy into the larger circle that contained all three. The blood funneled off the stone, it hit a shallow groove carved in the earth, filling the outer circle.
The Judge threw back his head and screamed on top of the glowing corpses of the Leprechauns. A column of blue lightning arced out of the Leyline, sheathing his body in electric light.
I had to turn my head to shield my eyes and saw Knu staring in wonder and horror, tears leaking from her eyes as well.
The light winked out, and I blinked away the after effects strobing purple in my view.
The Judge stood up, astride the bodies on the stone and where he pointed, Sidhe died.
He pushed
back the onslaught of attackers, laying waste like a farmer with a sythe slicing down wheat.
The Sidhe on unicorns turned and bolted for the rent in the fabric of our universe.
Only one lived to escape, sacrificing his mount to the magic and crawling through.
I don’t know who sealed the rip.
It could have been the Sidhe, to prevent the Judge from sending magic back into their realm. It might have been the Judge to stop any from coming through.
But the black hole disappeared and then it was just clean up.
Scratch that.
The Judge did more than clean up.
The blood on the field filled trenches, and I could see another ritual being build.
The battlefield was a giant sacrificial ritual on top of a leyline.
Much like the one I had busted up that brought demons into the world.
I glared at Knu.
“To gain power to fight the enemy, your Judge made a sacrifice.”
She said it in a low soft voice that I heard more in my head than with my ears.
I looked back at the man who became something more, something akin to a god and wondered at the mentality it would take to do something like that.
To have so many die at my hands or at my command.
The blood leaking from bodies kept flowing into the trenches, the magic drawing it in like a vacuum.
It was a mixture of life essence, and will power and force of spirit, all trapped, all drawn in and all being channeled, transferred into the Judge.
“He stole their life,” I growled.
Thinking again magic thoughts of destruction and ramping up to take on the Judge.
“Memories,” Knu reminded me. “He took their magic but he did not steal it.”
She lifted us up higher, taller than the trees so I could make out the symbols etched into the dark soil, rent into the rock.
The symbols were of sacrifice, yes.
But of willing sacrifice. For glory and honor, not of battle, but of living.
Tens of thousands of men lined up to fight for the Judge and die for him.
And I could see the symbols under the Wee One’s circles.
“Willing,” she confirmed. “The sole reason they came.”
The Fae sent their own to die, give power to a human and aid him in his fight against the Sidhe.
The light went out, but I wanted to see more.
“I can show you no more,” she said. “It’s a need to know.”
She was one of the ancients, her magic of a kind gifted to a man to fight for them.
But when it came to will power, I’m as stubborn as a mule in a sugar bowl.
One sweet ass.
I set my will against hers, and she laughed.
“Think this is one you can win?”
I set it harder and heard her smirk harder still.
“Here, hold my beer.” She joked.
Then she pulled back the curtain of her mind and I started crying. Probably came close to pissing myself.
I’m sure it was like being in the presence of a god, so much power, so much essence, so much of it all.
Life. Will. Freedom. Magic.
She pulled it back before it killed me.
The scene winked back on, and I could see the Judge sitting on the edge of the stone, weeping.
We popped up on the edge of the clearing, outside of the tree line and he looked up, looked in our direction.
I almost spoke, but she held a finger against my lips.
Those blue eyes glared for a moment, searching for us, for the spirits Radar had notices. I could see the red rimmed puffiness, and the sadness destined to become permanent.
He was the last thing alive in this field, and I knew his was the greatest sacrifice for he killed everything he loved and gave up his soul to keep this world safe.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Knu snapped her fingers and brought us back to the table by the river. A couple of thousand years and a couple of hundred days in the past, but only a few moments had passed her.
Folks, that’s relativity at its finest, which tells you pretty much all you need to know about magic.
It can do.
Whatever.
I let go of the Gnome’s hands and wiped my head. The thing about relativity is most of the world we live in is made up of memories. Think about this for a moment, but the reality I was in existed of a park by the river, still warm cup of coffee clutched in my trembling hands.
But that was only what I could see.
I knew the rest of the world still went on around me.
Hannah was at her house, reading and researching. The witches were out witching, the vampires twitching in their graves. The monsters were doing what demon monsters do when they hide out from sunlight after breaking into this plane.
The Normanii were stalking toward me across the park.
I had faith that the rest of the world went on out of sight and unassisted by me outside my little bubble.
I had memories of what went on out there, like knowing the water sliding past in front of me was in Memphis three days ago. But I didn’t have to see it to know it.
Watching the Judge was like that.
It was also like peeking in on parents in the bedroom, I suspect. A weird guilty fascination with what you might see.
I’d seen the Judge.
Perhaps at his worst.
I’d seen the sacrifice he had been willing to make, he had been prepared to give in to, and know how it affected him in the future.
Or at least I thought I did.
Was that past what made him who he was today?
The most powerful wizard to exist.
Or did he do more dastardly things in the interim before I met him and went to work with him? Did he have to keep up the blood sacrifices to maintain his position?
Was he like one of the gods of old, demanding an alter and a sheep every couple of days?
The thought made my head spin.
“Look out,” Knu said and ducked.
I didn’t.
A punch sent me spinning off the table and I threw up a shield to stop two more.
“You didn’t see that coming?” I yelled at her.
“They decided once they got here.”
We flicked a spell at the same time, which froze the red faced Northmen in their tracks. There were three of them, Eric I knew, and two others who looked like they belonged on the set of some hot guy calendar shoot.
Seriously, what did these Vikings eat to have such low bodyfat? I was tempted to be jealous, but decided to be pissed first.
My sore jaw dictated it.
I stood up and rubbed away some of the sting.
“What about you?” I snarled at the ghost.
“They snuck up on me.”
He tried to look innocent.
“Did you want me to take a punch?”
Maybe the ghost was blaming me for getting him killed and now losing his memories. Scratch that, it was my fault Elvis died, so there was no one else to blame.
“Did I want you to? Not until I saw him swinging. Did it hurt?”
“Don’t sound so happy about it.”
I sat on the bench next to Knu and snapped my fingers to release the men from the spell. The largest one tumbled to the ground, mid-kick, but the others recovered quickly and turned in my direction.
“Let’s see how long you can last without a sucker punch,” I threatened.
Eric held his hand in front of his warrior buddy to keep him from charging.
“You informed the enemy of our presence and intent,” he growled.
Whoa. Angry Viking sounds like a wolf when they’re pissed. Good to note.
“I told you in the truck I met a guy on the train,” I kept both hands on the table.
Not so they could see them, so I could have a clear shot if they decided to rush me, or whip out swords or do something equally stupid.
“I ran into him again last night and gave
fair warning to get out of town.”
“He is their Elder,” Eric shouted. “He sues for peace now.”
The largest Viking spit on the ground in disgust.
“There is no peace with the undead,” Eric continued. “But the vampires have sent an emissary to the Jarls.”
Knu took a breath beside me, but didn’t say anything.
“And you’re blaming me?”
“They are a scourge,” the giant spit again. “Your interference has halted our mission to destroy them.”
I stood up from the table.
They were smart enough to step back.
Well, Eric and the other normal sized guy were, but the tall one looked like he was itching to take a run at me.
I guess he figured brute strength and his size were a match for my speed of thought.
I melted the ground under his feet so he slipped down to his knees, then locked it tight as concrete, just to give him a little reminder that he was dealing with forces beyond his kin.
“Damn it man,” he spit again. “These are new boots!”
Not worried about being stuck in the ground. Worried about the leather.
I shook my head.
“I’m sorry I ruined your kill vampire party,” I told Eric. “But if the vamps want peace, and your Jarl agrees, then the killing stops.”
Eric shook his head.
“No, it does not,” I could see the berserker raging inside his eyes, the red glow outlining the iris. “The blood suckers will still prey on the weak. Only they will do so under the aegis of a brokered peace. It will not save humans. It will only be an advantage to the vampires.”
“You are responsible for the deaths of a million innocents,” the tall one said from his spot in the earth. “What happens from here forward will be on your head. Until I take it.”
Let’s face it, I kind of liked the guy. Any bad ass who can mouth off threats when you literally have them locked down up to their knees in dirt is someone you want on your side in a fight.
“I like your moxie,” I told him and loosened the earth so he could climb out.
He did and sat opposite of Knu to knock the soil from his soles.
“I don’t know what I can do,” I told Eric. “But I’ll hunt up the vampire and see if I can say something. Meet me at the Watcher’s house at ten.”
