The Wielder: Sworn Vengeance (The Wielder Series)

by Gosnell, David

  But I know why. We have one shot. We need to be where he will be, not where he was. I look at Znuul acknowledging his thought.

  Sil looks confused as does Shey. Vets is just at attention, like the good warrior she is - just waiting to be given an objective.

  “The hunters must be patient,” Znuul’s voice reverberates through the garage. “We need to be able to predict his movements, not react to them.”

  Sil looks at me, having caught on. “That probability thing you were babbling about.”

  I shoot a wink at her.

  “It wasn’t babble,” says Znuul in a lower tone. “It’s just common sense. We don’t want to be where our prey was. We want to be where it is.”

  Damn, apparently I think like an ages old demon.

  Chapter 75

  The first thing we did was figure out shifts to monitor Maldy’s position. There are 10 of us. There are 24 hours. That made things easy. Each of us has about a two and half hour shift.

  Poor Arix though, he’s on call continually as we discovered that when Maldgorath moves inter-dimensionally, the tracking spell disengages. So, anytime Maldy moves with his dragon, Arix has to re-do the tracking spell. Often, multiple times because he moves to other alternative dimensions and no connection could be made from ours.

  I have the 2am to 4:30 am shift, relieved by Znuul. We both figured its best that we take the crappy shifts as we are the ones bound to revenge. Karen has the shift before mine as she’s oath-bound too.

  At least this isn’t like last time where we were locked into the bunker until Znuul’s doppelganger showed. We are free to leave, allowed to do whatever. And we do. We have become the scourge of local buffets. You can’t imagine the damage Znuul, Vets and Sil can do. The words of the owner of the Peking Garden still ring in my ears… “You eat too much! Go home and do not come back here!”

  We’ve been tracking Maldgorath for almost two weeks now – this is good. Patterns are starting to develop in his movements. China, Egypt, Serbia, and good old Houston, Texas appear to be visited with some regularity.

  Patterns have also developed amongst ourselves too.– Silithes most of all. The first is insisting on our playing a board game mid afternoon – it’s a “bonding thing.” I actually kind of enjoy that. Her other pattern is asking for a healing spell in the morning to satiate her non-food related hungers – it started every other day and quickly became a daily thing.

  I have to admit I kind of like seeing her shiver when I cast the healing on her. I know she’s playing it up – big time - but I also know I’m performing a service. And keeping her from having to chew on someone else’s soul, or use that really expensive blue stuff. The hugs and thank you’s aren’t bad either. I can’t believe I’m enjoying hugs from my succubus…

  Pffiferil’s developed a pattern too. He’s taken to joining me during my shift, figuring it’s a good time to play pass the flask or share whatever he comes in with from Znuul’s bar. While I don’t generally play along, it’s been good spending time with him and hearing his opinions on everything from his observations of our host, our prey’s patterns, current sports and concern for our little Sheyliene.

  “She ain’t right,” were his exact words last night, followed by a “well, we all know she’s not right, but Ima meaning she’s more not right. She’s all quiet. She ain’t said nothing about you ana the wench playin’ games.” He even admitted he tried to provoke some responses from her through his particular brand of jokery – to no avail.

  And it’s true. She’s been very, very quiet. That is something she is normally not. The first week or so I took it as relief, because she has become rather, well, like a spoiled, overly needy child.

  After Pffif’s observations, it made me think that maybe the quiet isn’t all good.

  Tonight’s shift is a nice one. Pffif and Sil join me: Pffif with flask, Sil in negligee. I think she thought I might be alone, but you’d never know it. She just seems to roll with anything. But truth is I’ve never, ever been alone in the garage, because Hjuul is always by my side. Not the best conversationalist, but I know without a shadow of a doubt he’s looking out for me – and always willing to listen.

  Pass the flask is played with abandon – but without me. Pffif even coaxes Hjuul into taking a swig, which gets a shaking of the jowls and some whining. Funny enough though, after all that, when offered again – Hjuul takes another – and another. Sil is rather tipsy and falling into her old, less inhibited ways and that offers Pffif the opportunity to totally ride her about it.

  Which of course, she gives less of a damn about.

  All the same, good times. Predictable. And there is comfort in predictability.

  My shift ends and Znuul comes to relieve me. His face shows a smile of amusement. Pffif and Sil are totally faced. Hjuul is rolling around on the floor making “hrrmm” sounds, two shots turned to eight.

  “Well Arthur, I’m sure you’ve at least kept up with his movements as you appear to be the only sober creature here,” is Znuul’s low smirking response.

  “Still in Egypt,” I reply.

  “Aww, fun times come to an end,” says Sil, somewhat faltering on her first attempt to stand, but righting herself and pushing on past Znuul, looking at him in that hungry way as she somewhat staggers by.

  I know that succubus isn’t hungry either, I just fed her this morning. That should be good for almost two weeks at least.

  Znuul looks over at Pffiferil sitting in a folding chair.

  “Ima not even tryin’ to walk out yet,” is the little man’s response which gets a resonant laugh from Znuul.

  “You’re going to have to,” says Znuul. “Private matters to discuss with your wielder.”

  “Acch!” says Pffif, who basically pours out of his seat. After a moment of stabilization, he gives me a salute, followed by one to Znuul and makes a precarious zig-zag walk to the door.

  “I have come to like that little Clurichaun quite a bit, despite him jabbing his fingers into my thigh in Tarim,” Znuul says to me, grabbing the lawn chair Pffif was sitting in and engulfing it in a creak when he sits down. “But what I want to talk to you about is your Pixie. She... she… surprised me today. And it hasn’t left me.”

  Okay. I have no idea what could have been so drastic that Znuul would take time to share his observations with me. For years, Shey has called him numerous names, questioned his character, and generally been just be less than nice to him. Given their history, I understand why. Totally.

  Then he lays it on me.

  “She forgave me. This very afternoon Arthur...”

  I just look at him as confused as I am sure he is, “She did what? “

  “Forgave me. Not as much for my sake she said as her own. Something about not being able heal herself holding onto old hates.” His eyes were serious. “She remembered what I said about us being brought together for a reason, she said that reason was for us both to heal – and that she couldn’t unless she let me and what I did go. Then she told me to go find my own healing. Which is nicer than where she usually tells me to go.”

  I sit there in silence locked on Znuul’s now human, red-brown eyes and ask the question that comes to mind. “Why is this an issue?”

  His eyes turn away from me at that question. “It shouldn’t be. I was acting in the manner I knew to at the time. It was war. There are no rules to war other than winner takes all. Still, her forgiving me has… shook me somehow. I can’t explain other than I wish to weep for the pain she experienced. Logically, I have no responsibility. Yet, I feel... I feel responsible.” The look on his face is somewhere between confusion and disgust. “If I had consumed her then, rather than sold her, her pain would have ended.”

  “I thought you have no regrets, Znuul.”

  That remark gets me a smile that I can see is covering the very regret I brought up.

  “She has pain or conflict,” he says, shifting the focus from himself to her. “Something happened. Of what I have no idea. You may wish to f
ind out what it is and see if you can help her.”

  Znuul is telling me my fairy needs help. Pffif is telling my fairy needs help.

  Somebody help me.

  Chapter 76

  I opted first for sleep. Sometimes dealing with drama is best done well rested. After rolling out of bed and cleaning up, I go to Shey’s room and knock on the door. No answer.

  She’s in the woods. She loves nature. And goodness knows there’s miles and miles of woods around us. I remember when Dory passed. Shey disappeared to nature then too. It’s her point of comfort.

  There’s really no tracking her down. But I can bring her to me. And I do. I run my finger along her glyphic and say “return.” I feel spirit return into me with that familiar feeling that comes with the return of any of my summonlings to the "white." Then, I run my finger along her glyphic again, this time saying, “Come to me.”

  With a shimmer of the air, my fairy appears. Petite, flowing blond locks, translucent wings and those pupil-less golden orbs of eyes.

  “Is there something wrong? Or do you want me?" she asks.

  “Well Shey, just looking to make sure you’re okay.”

  That remark gets me several blinks over her golden orb-like eyes – a reaction I’ve come to know as her thinking about things – seriously thinking about things.

  “You know I have problems. Everybody knows I have problems… I am having some new problems… I don’t mean to cause problems. I am just... worried for you. And us. And me.”

  Last thing I need to do is react. Shey will react to my reaction, then – oh boy. So I take a deep breath, try to think of the best words that won’t come back on me. “No problems Sheyliene,” I say calmly as I can “You’ve caused no problems. I just sense you are disturbed and some others do too.”

  Blink. Blink. Blink. Think. Think. Think. Her wheels are turning.

  She clutches herself and looks up at me. “He mourns. They don’t mourn. Mourning is a loving thing. He’s not supposed to be able to love. They can’t love. They can’t be good. If they can be good…”

  She turns around, her translucent wings facing me.

  I think I get it. If Znuul can be good, why can’t she be evil? I’ve never been graced with all the details of her bondage under Maldgorath, but I do know that he totally subverted her and her character – basically made her into whatever he wanted her to be. I could do that too.

  I never would.

  Her memories during Maldgorath's hold on her are of good times doing heinous things because he made her enjoy them. She knows rationally what she did was heinous. It’s a total mind-melting screw job and no wonder she’s not entirely right. I feel her conflict now. If a demon – and to her the worst of them - can turn for the good, then why can’t she be as bad as she remembers herself?

  Her black and white world just got introduced to grey areas. It’s so much easier to judge beings by what they are as opposed to who they are. And it’s even more of a bitch when it makes you question yourself on those same terms – who am I, really?

  “Hey, somebody needs a hug,” what else can I say to her?

  She turns around, tears streaming from her eyes; she is now openly crying. She crushes me with her hug. I return it gently.

  “What if I’m really the bad guy Arthur? You don’t know the things I did. I dream of them. They aren’t bad dreams until I wake up and know they're bad. I still taste my sister’s blood. It tastes really good. What if I’m really the monster now? What if I become that monster? What if part of me really wants to be that – I had fun being that. What if bad me wins?”

  I hold my sobbing, heaving fairy trying to think what to say.

  “Hey, you are my Sheyliene. Not his, not anymore. Yea, stuff happened. Yea, he made you like it. But you are who you are now and who you’ve been for years now. Yea, you’re a little off at times, but I think you’re pretty special. So did Dorothy… remember? I know you and you are alright by me, even if you don’t see it.

  Sobbing stops. Blinking at me starts again. Then she about breaks my back with her hug.

  “I love you Arthur!”

  “You’ll feel better once we’ve killed Maldgorath,” I tell her.

  “We’ll dance in his black blood!” is her sing song reply as she starts to whirl me around in some form of dance.

  That’s my girl.

  Chapter 77

  I’m a pretty good chess player. After all, I’ve been playing for more than a few years. That makes the thought of losing to Sil burn a little. I just taught her the game a little over two weeks ago. It’s not fair. Still, all is not lost in this bout. I just have to be very careful not to do something stupid or obvious.

  I can’t even take pride in tutoring a great student. She just caught on.

  The sliding door to the rear porch opens and Karen comes out. She examines the board and looks at us both, nodding. “Quite the battle. Arthur, Ahtsag and I need you in the office. Sorry Silithes.”

  I’m relieved. “No problem Karen – Sil, checkers tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  I get up and follow Karen back inside and we make our way to Znuul’s office.

  “Tight game,” she says.

  “She learns fast.”

  That earns me a giggle and she opens the door to the office for me. At the very least Karen is a gentleman.

  Znuul is standing, looking at the multitude of TV screens in his office, all on mute. He turns around to his chair. I take my place at one of the plush seats in front of his cluttered desk. Karen plops herself down into the other one rather unceremoniously.

  “Time for us to make some decisions,” she blurts out.

  Znuul looks at her for the briefest of moments, then back at me. Yes, she stole his thunder. “Well, lead on, fearless one,” he says with a smile.

  Karen’s smile is a mile wide. “Poor alpha male, he has to deal with an alpha female.”

  This is cute, but I know we have serious things to discuss – most likely where to stage our ambush of Maldgorath. “Yea, it’s horrible Karen. So, time to make a move. We have three to four likely areas, right?”

  Znuul’s laugh resonates throughout the room. “Cut to the chase – I agree. My vote is Houston, what say you sister red witch?”

  She scrunches her face at him for the sister remark. “We have the greatest number of opportunities in China – 2 to 1”

  All eyes are on me now. “I’m not sure we’ve tracked him enough, but China seems the most likely place for him to be.”

  Znuul’s eyes turn from me to Karen and back again a few times. “That’s two to one. I can abide by that, but may I have opportunity to explain my decision?”

  “Of course not,” Karen shoots back at him with a wicked smile. Translation: go on.

  “She is such a ball-buster,” Znuul says looking at me shaking his head. Here’s why I choose Houston. First, in either China or Hamburg we have issues with governments and therefore potentially being identified. Visas, permits, false identities – we can be flagged. If we choose Houston, we can’t be tracked coming in. No customs issues, we are invisible. Sure we may have to wait longer, but, he won’t see us coming, once he is there.”

  With that he shoots one of those fake smiles at Karen. Me, I’m sold. So I say so.

  “Sold to the Irishman from North Carolina.”

  Karen is taking great amusement, I can tell. “Well, since it’s two to one, I can abide by that,” she says.

  I chuckle at the fact she didn’t admit defeat.

  “Then we are agreed – Houston is where we will meet our prey,” comes Znuul’s booming voice. I break my look from Karen to Znuul, who is leaning over his desk now towards both of us.

  “He does like to have his way doesn’t he?” Karen adds.

  I realize they always banter like this, so I don’t say anything. This is their way – juvenile as it seems.

  “So, we’ll need to have a more detailed determination of his position in Houston,” I say breaking thei
r little fun. “Arix says he can do that, once the bastard returns there, providing we have an appropriate map. So the question is - go to Houston now or figure it out in advance? Given the world apparatus is here, I’d say figure it out in advance from here, then go when we know exactly where his landing point is and where he moves to.”

  Karen looks at Znuul, “He likes to have his way too, doesn’t he? You two are no fun.” She looks back over at me, “You both are right. Let’s dial it in and do this by the numbers. Get Arix what he needs for Houston. Once he lands there, let’s get a good profile. Good thinking, both of you.”

  “Arthur mostly, of course,” she adds meeting Znuul’s smile with one of her own.

  Znuul returns the smile, reaches over and pulls out a large cylinder from a stack of six of them. “Give this to Pffiferil. He’s already started working on a mechanism for smaller maps.”

  Chapter 78

  It was six days before Maldgorath landed again in Houston. Once he did, we rousted Arix and had him track his movements in detail using the smaller mechanism on the Houston map. His landing point appeared to be in an industrial area near the shipping channels at Manchester Street. He didn’t roam far at all. He stayed at that location for a good nine hours before he blinked out.

  We reinstalled the crystal into the world map and found him in Iran. Have dragon – will travel, I guess.

  No fanfare follows. Karen and I meet with Znuul in his office after and he simply offers - “I’ll plan for accommodations… be prepared to move and pack lightly.”

  That’s when Karen throws a monkey wrench in it. “Your plaything asked me if I was giving you something she called ‘morning pleasures’, because apparently you haven’t been taking them since I arrived. She was very nice about it, worried about you I think. I assured her we aren’t doing anything of the sort.”

  Znuul’s face doesn’t belie a thing, “Sorry if she bothered you. I’ll have a talk with her.”

  “Sounds like she needs more than a talk Ahtsag,” Karen interjects, “Don’t use me as an excuse for becoming bored with your toy.”