by C. M. Lance
“Now, in that context, consider how others feel about someone capable of changing, on a whim, into a nine-foot tall, seven-hundred pound Battle Wizard - complete with sword.”
“But that’s all I can do. I don’t have any of the other magic that I’m supposed to have. Magic I need to protect myself from the Dark Mage who apparently wants to kill me.”
“People looking at you don’t know what you can’t do. They only see what you can do, and it is impressive. You bested and demoralized an All-America football player, who intimidates everyone who crosses his path. Do you think others might envy and resent you just for that?”
Sig shrugged and then nodded. “Probably.”
“Would you conjecture that feelings such as you had toward those who can practice magic are common throughout the non-magical populace as a whole?”
Sig took a moment to reflect. “Yes, I would guess it might be.”
“Envy, resentment, fear, and distrust go hand-in-hand. People will expect the magical to act selfishly, in their own best interest; after all, the basest human nature tends in that direction.”
“But a lot of people care for others in many ways. I did almost one hundred hours of community service last year.”
“Commendable. I believe the same can be said for many people who progress through our court systems.”
“Mine wasn’t part of a punishment. I…”
The Professor raised a hand. “I assumed it wasn’t and I was sincere when I said it was commendable. There are many more who don’t perform community service than those who do. The magical community isn’t different.
“Let me add another factor to the equation. Magic has gotten stronger, that means it has gotten easier for people to have magic. Many of those who now have magic haven’t had training to develop their skills nor, more importantly, their ethics. Raw talent without guidance makes for a dangerous combination.”
“I can understand that.”
“Lastly, there are those who practice the dark arts. No matter how altruistically they may begin, black magic will eventually subjugate them. Those who practice evil become evil.”
Sig nodded.
“A final thought to leave you with; when those with magic abuse their powers, do you suppose that reflects poorly on other practitioners - justified or not?”
“All are good reasons to stay under the radar, right?”
“All are excellent reasons. Remember, we are ambassadors of magic. You must always maintain best behavior, particularly if known as a practitioner. The scrutiny becomes intense if your secret is revealed.”
“Now that’s another reason to stay under the radar.”
“I don’t worry about you, my boy.”
“Thank you, professor. You mentioned Dmitri. When I shook him something fell out of his pocket.”
The Professor replied dryly. “I saw a number of things fall, including his pride.”
“Something strange, disgustingly strange fell out of his pockets. I’ve never seen anything like it, and don’t want to again.”
The Professor gestured at the hot tub. “You blocked my view when you bent to pick up whatever lay on the floor. What did it look like?”
Sig hesitated. “It most resembled a polished turd. I know that sounds weird, but it was brown and cylindrical, tapered at each end. It had ugly colors running through it.”
“Hmmm, go on.”
“When I tried to pick it up, as I touched it, I suddenly felt sick, nauseous, as if I had a terrible taste in my mouth. I flicked it away and the feeling mostly stopped. However, the weirdest thing happened when I stomped on it. It sounded like it squealed when I squished it, then it evaporated, leaving a sickening odor. That’s when Dmitri ran out of the facility.”
“You said ugly colors. What colors?”
“Red, purple, and green streaks and there may have been yellow flecks, too. It looked smooth. Lumpy smooth, if that makes any sense.”
“Your discomfort with it interests me. You’ve evidenced an unexpected sensitivity to magic. Zombies, demons, remote viewing, sensing Andras, and who knows what else.”
“Why is that interesting?”
“It’s as if you exhibit one-way magic. You sense magic, but you don’t perform magic, other than the ability to change. It’s as if… as if your magic is encased in your body. Hmmm.” He stroked his mustache with an index finger.
“Is it familiar to you? Do you recognize the problem?”
“No. Completely unfamiliar, but we’re learning more about the symptoms. Perhaps someday we can find a cure. I’ll research your lumpy smooth ‘turd’. It may take a while if it leads to black magic.”
Chapter 31
After interviewing for eight different research-assistant jobs, Sig reached a mutual agreement with Randy Wheatley. Wheatley, with a doctorate in Engineering, was determined to find ways to provide low cost power to the world at the intersection of magic and physics. He wanted to find practical applications, not just explore theory. He felt that magic should be able to be stored like electrical energy - in effect a magic battery. He also investigated ways to use Ley lines to transport electricity, ways to improve the performance of windmills, and he had visions of using magic to accomplish nuclear fusion.
Sig liked the wide-ranging and open-ended research plans, and he enjoyed Wheatley’s infectious enthusiasm. He had full confidence they would make one or more significant break throughs, which would benefit the world. His zeal reminded Sig of the revival preachers he had seen in rural Minnesota. Wheatley was convinced he could convert the world to inexpensive energy and take it to the promised land of increased productivity and a heavenly Gross National Product.
It was a ride Sig wanted to go on.
Chapter 32
It took Sig over two weeks to get a check from the insurance company. Mostly he tapped Giselle and Professor Herman’s generosity to bum rides while he waited for it. Rick even carted him a few times in his decrepit old car. Rick drove what would have been a classic, a 1969 Olds Toronado, if rust wasn’t the glue holding the car together. He didn’t drive it at night since he never knew when the hidden headlights would elect to stay hidden. Many years ago, Rick’s pack had settled in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. They found privacy and plentiful game in the expansive woods, but its harsh winter destroyed cars.
Giselle, Rick, and Bella drove by to pick up Sig for a Friday evening out. He still sparred with Arianna, Bella, and other Amazons. He taught them the fine points of Karate and Kendo. They taught him the fine points of free style and dirty fighting. Everyone progressed.
They went to Rick’s favorite burger shop. It turned out to be the Amazons’ as well. Their diet also tended toward animal flesh, although not as heavily as Rick’s. They chided Sig for all of the vegetables he ordered on his burger, tomatoes, lettuce, grilled onions, and jalapenos.
Rick said, “I told you that stuff isn’t food.”
Bella chimed in, “Right, it’s what food eats.”
Sig smiled and plucked a jalapeno off his burger and ate it plain. “Have you ever tried one of these? You should try it before you knock it, or are you afraid to try?”
Giselle said, “Afraid of a pickle? Give me a break.”
“These are especially flavorful pickles. Go ahead try it.” He pulled six fresh jalapenos out of his burger and placed two on each of their dishes. He made sure the ones he selected had plenty of seeds. “Go ahead, unless you’re afraid of vegetables. You need at least two to get the full flavor.” He took a long sip of his milk shake. The jalapenos were fiery.
Bella picked one up. “What are these things?”
“Japanese pickles, japalenos.” Sig picked another one out for himself. “C’mon. All together now.” He popped one in and they followed suit.
He watched the two girls from Minnesota and the Were from the UP chew the jalapenos. He struggled to keep a straight face as they each stopped chewing. Their eyes widened, and started to tear.
A slow smile spread acro
ss his face. “Vegetables are what food eats, huh? How about a vegetable that eats animals, from the inside out?” He continued smiling as he picked up another and ate it.
Bella and Giselle drank deeply from their sodas, and then drank again. Rick wiped his tongue and then gulped down his glass of water. Tears ran down their cheeks.
Sig took pity on them. “Here, sodas and water aren’t very effective at putting out the burn. Dairy products are best. Drink this.” He offered them his shake.
Rick grabbed it and took along pull. “That’s better.”
Bella hit him on the shoulder and extended her hand to grab for the glass. “Give.” She hissed.
They passed the shake around until the fire died down.
Bella glowered at him. “You’ll be lucky if she gives you a ride home.” She nodded at Giselle.
Rick looked at Sig’s burger. “How did you eat those japalenos, do you know a trick?”
Sig smiled again. “For a ride, I’ll tell you the secret.”
Giselle smiled. “OK.”
“I grew up eating them. They’re Jalapenos. A Mexican pepper. You acquire immunity with practice, or you like the taste enough that you suffer through it. Even so, those were about the hottest I’ve tasted. I don’t figure people from rural Minnesota and the UP encounter them much.”
“But you’re from rural Minnesota.”
“My Grampa introduced them to us. Every time we went to the Cities, we’d pick them up.” Sig’s smile faded. He’s seen Grampa yesterday. His condition hadn’t changed - alive, but not quite.
Rick jumped into the silence. “Let’s finish up here and get over to the Game Room. Dart league tonight.”
They piled into Giselle’s car and drove to the Game Room where Sig first met the Amazons. Inside, they joined Arianna. She sat at a table by herself.
“I saved the table for you. I hoped you’d come here. What do you think about your mother coming into town?”
Giselle exclaimed, “My mother. You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Nope, she’ll be here next week.”
“Why is the Commander coming?”
Arianna shrugged, raised her eyebrows, and gestured with her head sideways toward Sig. “The Commander doesn’t need a reason.”
Sig had been talking with Rick about darts and overheard parts of the conversation. “You’re mom’s coming? That’s great. Does she come to Chicago often?”
“This will be the first time that I know of.”
“She didn’t come when you checked out the college?”
“No, the Training Master the brought us.”
“Training Master?”
“Amazon culture is different from what you’re used to.” She sighed. “Apparently it’s different from what most people are familiar with.”
“I’d like to learn more about it.”
Catalina, another Amazon strolled up to the table. “I hear the Commander will be here to check out the man who’s whipping up on her warriors.”
Giselle rolled her head and eyes back. “Oh, crap, great, that’s just great.”
She looked at Sig. “Maybe you should stop working out with the girls, at least for a week or two until my mom leaves.”
“Why?”
“C’mon, let’s go someplace quieter. You’re getting your wish. One way or another, you’ll learn more about Amazon culture.” She got up and headed for the door.
Sig looked around. Everyone at the table was looking at him. He jumped up and followed Giselle out.
He caught up with her outside. She leaned against the building.
“You call your mom ‘Commander’?”
She pushed off the building and started walking. Sig hurried to catch up.
She glanced sideways at him. “I call her Commander because she’s the elected head of our tribe. We don’t use the term ‘queen’ anymore, since we split into tribes, and chief has too many masculine connotations, so she’s Commander.”
“Not mom?”
“We don’t develop parent child bonds like you’re used to. The tribe raises the young. We have specialists for various duties. We find it efficient.”
Sig nodded. “Interesting.”
“Now she’s coming to check you out.”
Sig stopped and looked incredulously at her back. She continued walking for a few more paces. “Check me out?” He asked.
She turned and walked back. “I should have expected this. I didn’t think much of it when you asked to spar, but you’ve been holding your own, more than holding your own. You’ve been teaching us. It’s hard to keep something like that from the Commander.”
“She wants to watch a match?”
“I suspect she feels she has to defend the tribe’s honor. She’ll probably fight you.”
“I’m not fighting anyone’s mother.”
She gave him a wry look. “You don’t want to fight my sixty six year old mother?”
“Sixty six? Of course I don’t want to fight her.”
“She’ll kick your ass.” Giselle said confidently.
Taken aback, Sig said, “What?”
“Amazon’s reach their peak of power after many years. The Commander came into hers about five years ago, shortly before she became our leader. She’s as strong as Bella and Arianna combined, faster, and more skilled. Oh yeah, she’ll kick your butt.”
Sig enjoyed working out with the Amazons. Despite what she said, he knew he just held his own and only because he was improving as they did. Sure, he taught them things, but he learned as well.
He had improved, but enough to hold his own with someone stronger, faster, and more experienced than his sparring partners?
“She’s really that much better?”
“My mother bench presses four hundred and fifty pounds. That was last year. She may be stronger now.”
Sig shut his mouth with a snap when he realized it hung open.
“Now do you understand my suggestion that you retire from sparring for a little while?”
Sig nodded slowly. “Yeah, probably good advice, but I can’t back down or I’ll always be backing down.”
“Not a surprise. Not wise, but not a surprise.”
She turned to walk back to the Game Room. After a moment, he followed her. What had he gotten himself into?
Chapter 33
“You failed me. I should send you back to your mother,” growled the Dark Mage.
“Please, not that. My brothers are too mean. Please, let me stay,” whimpered Dmitri.
“You lost the demon’s egg. Do you realize how long it took to get it?” shrieked the Wizard. “Do you know what promises I made, what I had to give up?”
Dmitri hung his head.
The Dark Mage asked, “How can I ever trust you again?”
Dmitri hung his head further. “Please give me another chance. I won’t fail you again.”
The Wizard screamed, “He defeated you. He destroyed my egg. It was the gateway to defeat the Battle Wizards.”
“But he’s so big, so fast, and so strong. You never told me.”
The Mage whispered. “I shouldn’t have to tell you everything. Take off your shirt.” He opened a cupboard, withdrew a braided whip with a forked tip, and laid it on a table.
Dmitri moaned as he stripped off his jacket and shirt.
The Wizard screeched, “Strip off your pants. Grab the shelves.” He took up the whip and cracked it.
Dmitri sniveled as he stood above bloodstains that had soaked into the wooden floor and clutched the bookshelves. The Wizard wielded the whip until his arm ached and Dmitry collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
He put the whip back in the cupboard, rubbed his arm, and then cackled. “I feel better now.”
The Dark Mage mused, “What is the next step now to destroy the Battle Wizard? Andras again?”
Chapter 34
Sig swayed back so far to dodge a kick, he had to stop his fall with a hand to the floor. He used it to bounce up and catch Arianna
’s leg at the ankle as she pulled back. To straighten up, he pulled on her leg, and then lifted it up, pulling her off her feet. Shoving back and down, he slammed her upper back onto the mat. While she lay slightly stunned, he twisted her leg, to flop her over and dropped a knee into her kidneys. His other leg broke his descent to prevent injuring her.
He stood, pressed his palms together and bowed to her, then extended a hand to help her up.
She said “Thanks” as she pulled on his hand to rise. Then she looked over his shoulder and said “Shit.”
Sig smiled. “You were predictable again. I took advantage. That’s the problem with sparring someone frequently. You pick up tendencies that aren’t detected in a random bout.”
Still looking over his shoulder, she hissed, “Quit babbling. It’s the Commander.”
Sig swung around to get his first sighting of the old woman everyone feared.
He looked around and didn’t see her. He looked right and left - no old lady.
He asked Arianna, “Where is she?”
A tall, extremely attractive redhead he hadn’t met before asked him, “Where’s who?”
Sig looked up into her sapphire blue eyes. She was at least six-feet-four inches tall and well muscled, with an air of confidence. Hot was a good one-word description.
“The Commander? Arianna said she was here.”
She extended her hand, “Hello. They call me ‘Commander’, but you can call me Rowena.”
Sig looked at her hand for a moment, before he took it. “I’m starting to get used to the taste of shoe leather. Pleased and surprised to meet you.” Her grip was firm and warm.
After a throaty chuckle, she said, “I must say I’m surprised as well. Your smaller than I imagined, and prettier.”
Sig flushed crimson. “Do you know professor Balcescu?”
“Only by reputation. Why do you ask?”
“You momentarily reminded me of her.”
