by C. M. Lance
“Nevertheless, I am impressed.”
Sig watched the exchange and wondered if they remembered he participated in the battle.
“Let us hope that they’ve left this realm. Summoning a demon of such strength is fraught with danger. The longer the calling binds Andras, the more dangerous he becomes to the caller. Should the bonds controlling the demon fail, he’ll turn on and destroy his master. A demon marquis takes tremendous insult from being controlled. It won’t just be bad for the master; it will release an affronted demon to terrorize this dimension.”
Sig asked, “Don’t demons terrorize us all the time?”
“By the strictures placed on them, they must be invited into our world. The invitation rends a rift in the curtains separating worlds, allowing them passage. Yes, they do perform mischief constantly, but their interference is of influence, not physical dominance. For that, they must be in our demesne. Thank goodness, their access is constrained. Demons have frequently slipped their bonds in the past. Have you heard of Chernobyl?”
“The Russian nuclear meltdown? A demon caused that?”
“That, the Inquisition, the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand that started World War I, the explosion of Mt. Saint Helens, and many other aberrations.”
“If I understand what you’re saying, and I don’t always, if the bonds are slipped, he will wreak havoc in our world. We have to stop him. Rick and I fought him to a draw before we had your help. With your help, we can send him back.”
Professor Herman nodded. “Spoken like a true Battle Wizard. There are forces that will eventually compel a demon to leave, which we can assist. They are unable to remain here, but they cause great damage and misery for the time they remain in our world.”
“The demon that’s eating Grampa’s magic, is he like Andras?”
“No, your great-grandfather’s demon is much more mindless and far less powerful. More appropriate to compare it to one of Andras’ minions, a specialized foot soldier.”
“What should we do about Andras?”
“I surmise that he left our world, but if not, for the time being we should stay together. The three of us jointly may be able to vanquish him. Let us travel collectively to the university today. I must leave now. I arrived home late yesterday because I had a departmental funding meeting with Professor Heathcoat. We scheduled our follow up meeting for this morning.”
Rick said, “Is he still trying to steal our funding? Can’t he see what we are accomplishing?”
Professor Herman said dryly, “It is my job to elucidate our accomplishments. I can’t do that if I don’t meet with him this morning.”
Sig looked out at his truck sitting broken in the driveway. “That sounds like a good idea. I don’t think I’ll be driving anywhere from now on. I still don’t know how I’ll explain that mess.”
The Professor walked over to stand by his side. He surveyed the trees in front of the house. “Can you pull your truck over past the parking area near that large tree with the split trunk, the one with the charred bark?”
“I’ll try.”
Sig got the truck started and pulled it forward. A cacophony of scraping and squealing sounds accompanied its movement. He parked the truck near the charred tree and walked back. The Professor met him halfway. “OK, professor, it’s out of the way over there.”
“This will take a bit of precision, not like the fire balls tossed about last night.” Professor Herman rubbed the large ring he wore until it glowed. Raising his arms above his head, he made a thrusting motion at the tree and a lance of fire sprung from between his hands and flew at the tree. The side of the tree nearest to Sig’s truck caught fire. As the trunk charred and blackened, he gradually moved the thin lance of fire back toward the middle of the tree.
The fire ate through the trunk. With loud cracking and popping, the tree leaned.
He gestured with his fingers, as if signaling the tree to move in the direction he indicated.
It tilted further and Sig realized it was falling towards his truck. It crashed down, crushing the cab.
Now Sig’s truck was ready for the scrap pile. His shoulders slumped.
The Professor clapped his shoulder. “Now you will have something to explain to the insurance adjuster. Lightning struck the tree; it fell and crushed your truck. This way it won’t add an incident to your driving record. Problem solved.”
Sig looked up at his smiling face. “Except I’ll be bumming rides until I get a replacement.”
“There is that. Come, let’s get to school.” He gestured at his Maybach.
Sig glanced at it then back to the Professor. “Can I drive?”
“Surely you jest. Look how you treat your car.”
Sig’s mouth dropped open. Rick howled with laughter as he climbed into the back of the Maybach. “Come on, it beats walking, something you better get used to.”
Chapter 26
Andras patrolled the circumference of the magic circle. His wolf lay across the only exit from the room. The Wizard glared at him from inside the circle and said, “I command that you return.”
Andras gestured and replied in a hissing voice. “Come out wicked one. Join me. Together we can defeat this Battle Wizard of yours.” His huge owl-like eyes rolled back. “Think of the pleasure of driving a sword through his heart. I can make that happen.”
“You failed. He defeated you.”
Andras thundered, “Defeated me, he didn’t. He hid behind barriers. He wouldn’t finish the fight. Don’t think because you embrace black magic that you can insult me.”
The harmonics in Andras’ shout sent shivers through the Wizard’s backbone. It was a voice to command demon legions. Nevertheless, the Wizard reiterated, “I command that you return.”
Andras purred. “I like it here. It is so pleasant, but I miss my legions.”
“You are nothing without your legions.”
Andras squealed and threw himself at the circle, slashing with his sword. The circle bulged inward.
The wizard recoiled. Strain echoed in his voice as he demanded, “I am your master. You will leave this domain.”
Andras’ glance let him know that the tremor in his voice was obvious. “Master, I will stay and eat your heart.” Shifting to a wheedling tone he said, “You must be getting hungry. I remember hunger, like talons in the stomach. Come out. I’ve prepared a wondrous feast for you.” He waved his sword. The table against the wall creaked as it filled with roast pheasant, suckling pig, mounds of succulent corn, potatoes, casseroles, and desserts of all kinds.
Despite the chill in the room, sweat ran under the Dark Mage’s ceremonial robe. “Are you angry that he escaped you?”
“Yesssss, I want to crush his bones and suck the marrow, eat his liver, burn his heart.”
“Leave now and I will bring you back when the time is right. If you refuse, there are others. Azazel, Asmodeus, or Belial will come and do my bidding.”
Andras howled. “Belial! His beauty hides a forked tongue. Bah. You deserve each other.” The harmonics shivered across the Wizard’s skin.
Andras asked, “Bring me back, you will, to kill the Wizard… and his friends? You will let me soak the soil with their blood?”
“Someone will do it. Someone who will do my bidding.”
“If I kill you, I can finish him when I want.” He leapt at the circle again. The boundaries flexed even more.
The mage felt sweat trickling down his face. He refused to wipe it and demonstrate fear. “Before you can get to me I will bring Belial and the others to cast you back, never to return.” He gathered up a paintbrush and a container of thick red liquid. “Leave now or I will summon the others. I have enough virgin blood to paint the sigils I need. I begin now.” He opened the container and dipped the brush in.
Andras screamed, “Bring me back or I will return to kill you.” He leapt on the wolf and they charged through a portal that appeared in the rock wall, disappearing from this world.
The wizard crumpled to th
e floor and wept.
†††
An hour later, courage restored by two snifters of brandy, the Dark Mage summoned Dmitri. He could have beckoned with a spell. Instead, with hands still trembling, he dialed Dmitri’s cell phone.
Dmitry arrived and shuffled into the Mage’s study with shoulders hunched, as if fearing a blow. “Yes, f-f-Master?” The hall light provided the only illumination.
The Mage motioned Dmitri closer after setting a crystal box in the middle of his empty desk. In the dim room, the box pulsed with an inner light
He pushed the lid back and rotated the box to show Dmitri. Inside, a greenish brown lump pulsed with light ranging from dark purple to an orange glow. The Mage gestured with a menacing smirk. “A demon’s egg. Take it. Touch it to the boy’s skin to gather his essence. When it hatches, it will target him with a singleness of purpose.”
Dmitri reached in; eyes shut, and touched it. His eyes opened and he visibly relaxed. “It didn’t hurt me.”
“Of course not. It’s not targeted for Trolls. I offered up the pain and lives of innocents as sacrifice for the egg. Before the demon spawn turns on you, take it to him.”
Dmitri’s eyes widened. He put the egg into his pocket and hurried out of the study.
Chapter 27
Sig spent the day interviewing for positions within the department. At three, he walked to the Amazon’s training center for his appointment with Bella at four o’clock. He carried his bamboo shinai practice swords and a bag containing fencing armor along with his gi.
This time, he changed in the storeroom reserved for men.
When he emerged, there were more women than last time. Several stood around chatting. As he walked into the large open space looking for Bella, the conversations quieted or stopped.
He noticed her warming up in a far corner of the room near a rear entrance. She looked around at him at the same time. She smiled and waved him over. She held a bamboo shinai.
“Well there he is, the conquering hero. Ready for your next conquest?” she asked sardonically.
“I’m not here to conquer anyone. I’m here to workout. Besides, I think I got lucky last time.”
“Hmmm. We’ll see. What ground rules would you like?”
“What are the house rules?”
She arched an eyebrow. Sig thought it was very attractive. She said, “How about naked steel Falchions to the death?”
Sig laughed and wondered about her testosterone level. He raised one of his swords and pointed at hers. “How about shinai until we’re tired?”
“I suppose you’ll want to wear protective headgear as well?”
“I wouldn’t leave home without it.”
“How do you want to count points?”
“I’m here for practice. I don’t care about points. Whatever you feel comfortable with, but I’d prefer just a friendly joust.”
“Friendly joust. Sounds like an oxymoron. Is freestyle OK?”
“Sure, that sounds interesting. Does that include Karate, boxing, and biting?”
She briefly looked taken aback. “Let’s just concentrate on swords today.”
“Time limit?”
“Three minute rounds?”
Sig nodded. “Lead the way.”
“Is here alright?”
Sig looked around and saw twenty women surrounding them. He pointed toward the crowd. “OK, they may want to back up a bit and leave an opening. I may need room to run.” He noticed several of the women smile and nod.
Bella held out her sword. Sig touched his to hers. As soon as it touched, she lunged with her point at his chest. Remembering Arianna’s tactic, he was ready and used his sword to guide hers to slide past his chest.
He stepped beyond her, and then hacked down and back at her Achilles. She managed to block him as she spun. His sword struck the ground below her heel instead of her leg.
She attacked fiercely, slashing and hacking. He managed to block most of her assault as he backed away. It reminded him uncomfortably of the battle with Andras.
He recognized an expert opponent when he met one; particularly given the freeform style of the match. Not quite the same as street fighting, but it combined elements of kendo, fencing, and eskrima, the Philippine fighting form. Her technique was heavy on attack elements. He analyzed her attack and noted an occasionally repeated pattern. A thrust, followed by a diagonal cut, and then an overhead chop. The next time she did it, he stepped forward when she raised the sword for the overhand, and thrust hard into her upper sternum, then dropped and rolled to his left.
As he sprang to his feet out of the roll, expecting a back slash, the woman watching the clock called, “Time.”
Bella dropped the tip of her sword to the ground and rubbed her chest. She glowered at him.
Sig bent over, hands on his knees, panting. He knew that blood loss from wounds she inflicted, if it were a battle with real swords, would weaken him. If it weakened him more than he felt now, he’d be dead. He looked up at her. “You developed a pattern I took advantage of. Thrust, diagonal slash, then overhead hack. Watch for it in the next round. Meanwhile, I think I’m bleeding to death.”
She looked at him speculatively. He leaned his sword against the wall and walked in a circle, hands on hips, breathing deeply. Keep her guessing and thinking. Maybe next time maybe he’d make something up to confuse her.
After a minute rest, they resumed. Sig noticed that Bella’s attack this time became tentative at first, so he attacked. She used a different technique. Quite a number of her combinations included slashes at the legs. A number of them connected. It was a good strategy. Weaken the legs and slow your opponent, then attack the vital core.
He incorporated some of her technique into his attack. It slowed him down as he thought through new combinations instead of reacting. That opened him up for her counters. When the timekeeper called an end, they both bent over, hands on knees, spent, sweating, and with imaginary blood running down their bodies.
Sig bowed to her. “Thanks for the match. I learned a lot from you today. Instead of going for killing or crippling blows, to gain points, bleed your opponent. Gain victory instead. Well played.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. She bowed back. When she looked up, her mouth opened in surprise. A rough push from behind knocked Sig to his knees. “Tough guy, you come here to beat up on girls?”
Sig recognized the voice. He continued his fall forward into a somersault, rising into a defensive crouch.
He spun around to find Dmitri Nastase’s ugly face smiling down on him. Sig faked a punch then dropped into a leg sweep that caught Dmitri behind the knee. It felt like leg sweeping an oak, and was equally effective. Dmitri barely swayed, and then lashed out with a work boot clad foot.
Sig dodged the kick and stepped in with combination punches to the giant’s kidneys. He grunted and swept a massive fist at Sig, who ducked, but the glancing blow to the top of his head made him see stars.
The stars revealed that this wasn’t the best decision he’d ever made. Where was Rick to provide common sense when he needed it?
Another blow swept in. He dodged it but not the returning backhand that knocked him down. He rolled and sprang back to his feet, but Dmitri was quick. Before Sig settled his feet, the hulk grabbed for him. Sig, in turn, grabbed handfuls of the brute’s denim jacket and rolled backwards lifting with his feet, launching Dmitri over his head. He landed with a boom.
Unfortunately, he held onto Sig’s gi when he landed. When they both rose, his huge paw still grasped Sig. He pulled Sig close and punched him in the ribs, freezing his breath. It was like being hit with a sledgehammer. Before Sig recovered, Dmitri grabbed his gi in both hands, whirled like an Olympic hammer thrower, and launched Sig at the door.
His head and the back of his shoulders slammed into the door, knocking it open. Momentum carried him outside. He tumbled down the steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. He scrambled to his feet, expecting further attack, but the door swung closed. He look
ed right and left but didn’t see anyone. Time to even things up, “Aðalbrandr.”
†††
He sheathed his sword over his back, strode to the door, and opened it. Dmitri, two steps from the door, smiled, and smacked his fist into a meaty palm. Sig heard chattering in the background.
He ducked and twisted his shoulders to enter through the training facility door. As he entered and straightened up, the room fell silent. Dmitri’s smile collapsed as he looked upwards. His open mouth was a sure indication he’d never looked up at someone over two feet taller than he was.
Sig reached out with an index finger the size of the fat end of a pool cue, and poked it into Dmitri’s chest. “My little friend told me that someone jumped him from behind. I bet that was you.” Dmitri took a step backward.
“Was it you?” Sig poked his chest again.
Dmitri blustered, “We were just playing around. Nobody got hurt. Who in the hell are you?”
“Playing?” Sig stepped forward in a flash and shoved Dmitri with both hands. He landed on his butt and slid across the waxed concrete floor.
Sig smiled. “Can anyone play or do the rules say that I have to push you from behind?”
Dmitri looked around and growled, “What the fuck are you smiling about?”
Sig saw Giselle smiling. She winked.
He walked toward Dmitri, who scooted away across the floor. He sensed malevolence radiating from Dmitri, but it wasn’t Dmitri. It was near him. Sig bent, grabbed Dmitri’s feet and lifted him into the air. He shook him up and down. Articles dropped out of Dmitri’s pockets. Sig dropped him back to the floor in a heap.
His wallet, keys, and change lay scattered on the ground along with a strange looking amulet. Dark brown with mottled red, purple, and green striations running through it, it looked like a polished turd. Sig reached out to pick it up between thumb and index finger.
As soon as he touched it, he flicked it away in disgust. It made him feel nauseous. It created a foul taste in his mouth, like gargling used motor oil. He wanted to spit.
