Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two

by Michael Arches

  I showed her my hand. “I got too carried away with a punch. I think I broke something.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Does it hurt?”

  “It did, like the dickens, but you know how pain seems to flow away from me. I still can’t move my fingers or my wrist.”

  “Take his power, and we’ll head home. Laura can heal you when we get there.”

  “I claim the spoils of victory,” I told the sorcerer, and I was staggered by the waves of scorching energy that flowed from him to me. He’d been stronger than I’d thought.

  By the time we arrived at our community ranch, one of my dearest friends, Katie O’Dell, had already started a victory party because Diana had called her. We left the sorcerer in the car, and I promised to send help soon. Because he was my magical slave, there was no chance he’d try to escape.

  The cheers were louder than usual when we arrived, for some reason. Maybe because this guy had been particularly dangerous. They must understand, and I did, that one of these days, I might not be strong enough to beat the monsters Hudson and the regional slayer, Raul Escobar, kept sending after us. I’d barely been stronger than each new opponent I faced, but that couldn’t go on forever.

  My girlfriend, Laura Reynolds, rushed up to me, threw her arms around my neck, and smothered me with kisses. I hugged her back and kissed her for a moment.

  Then I said, “I busted my hand, and the sorcerer is in worse shape.”

  When I showed her my hand, she gently cupped it in hers. Soothing relief flowed from her to me, and soon, I was as good as new. Then we went to the car with Diana’s assistant, Amber, who usually took control of all slaves.

  After Laura healed the former sorcerer, I instructed him to follow Amber’s orders as if they were my own. She led him away, and Laura and I returned to the celebration.

  Diana handed me and Laura each a bottle of a local craft beer and toasted me loudly. “I want to thank our fantastic fighting champion, Ian O’Rourke, for another brilliant victory. I had the pleasure of watching him in action, and I’m thrilled to the bones. All hail, our hero!”

  More cheers rang out from everyone, and the party lasted well into the night. The thing was, though, that my memories of Oran Byrne kept popping into my head. He was sure to be a much bigger problem than the man I’d just defeated. And Byrne was my problem, in particular, because I’d agreed to fight for the clan as Diana’s disciple.

  Chapter 2

  Thursday, October 17th

  Brigid’s Community Ranch, Boulder County, Colorado

  THE NEXT DAY, I went through my usual routine. That consisted mostly of training for future fights and caring for animals. At breakfast, I read the local newspaper Diana had dropped on my table. She only did that when I was causing trouble by making news.

  For years before I came along, Cindy Paxil had engaged in a running feud with Diana. Paxil seemed to get more reader comments, pro and con, from stories about witches than just about any other subject. Not surprisingly, she kept writing about us.

  “What now?” I asked Diana. “We didn’t blow up anybody at the party, at least not that I recall, and she couldn’t have seen the fight afterward.”

  Diana tapped the headline. City of Boulder Starts Major Campaign to Woo Witches.

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “The only thing she mentions in support is that Zack invited you to the party despite knowing Oklahoma wants to extradite you for murdering Sheriff Cantor.”

  The sheriff and the regional slayer Escobar had killed my family back in September. I’d have been more than happy to kill Cantor myself, but other members of my family had gotten our revenge without me. The authorities blamed me because I was the public face of anguish over what Cantor and Escobar had done.

  I read the full article, then said to Diana, “It sounds like she’s trying to keep folks stirred up. I see plenty of anonymous sources sniping at us, but nobody’s willing to stand behind their insults. We need to answer these baseless attacks.”

  Diana shook her head. “We need to remain quiet.”

  “I’m trying, believe me. I didn’t browbeat anyone at the party to convince them to welcome witches.”

  “You need to stay out of the newspapers,” she said, then she strode away.

  I asked Laura, who’d pretended not to overhear our conversation, “Why is this my problem? I didn’t want to go to the damned party in the first place. Now, I’m the bad guy for showing up?”

  She chuckled as she held her daughter Christina on her knee. “It couldn’t possibly be our great queen’s fault, so it must be yours. Seems obvious enough to me.”

  -o-o-o-

  AFTER BREAKFAST, I HEADED outside to work with the ranch’s animals. There had been a hard frost overnight, and a cold wind blew across the pastures and flapped my trouser legs, stinging me. I’d forgotten my gloves, and it didn’t take long for my fingers to get numb.

  We’d sold off most of our livestock or shipped them to our winter ranch near Pueblo. The snow was already piling up deep on our mountain meadows, and the only animals we kept at the ranch year-round were horses, herding dogs, barn cats, and wolves. I wandered among the critters, making sure they were all staying healthy. Then I helped with our artisanal cheese production. The clan’s cheese was sold nationwide.

  Dinner was the usual noisy affair. The adults speculated about the new sorcerer, and the kids ran amok. I sat at a large table with Laura, Christina, and a half-dozen friends. The main entrée tonight was smoked pork chops, and I ate four.

  After I’d finished, Laura said, “I’ve got a message from our Grand Poobah. She’s arranged for you to meet that local vet tonight.”

  I grinned at the news. I fought sorcerers because I had to, but I lived to heal animals. For several weeks, I’d been bugging Diana to arrange for me to study healing spells with her friend, Holly Sullivan, who owned an animal hospital.

  Diana took me to meet Holly. By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was after 6 p.m. Only the emergency room remained open.

  Holly let us in through a side door.

  Diana whispered to me, “Remember, you’re here for an audition, so cut the sarcasm and show her more respect than you do me.”

  Diana and I had always had a prickly relationship. It wasn’t my fault that she had a huge ego and treated everyone else like minions. I’d only indentured myself to her because she was terrific at teaching magic.

  I nodded. “So, you misled her about how annoying I am, eh?”

  Her regal frown returned to her face, like it did so often when she was near me. “I can always mend that mistake.”

  I put up my hands in surrender. I couldn’t help teasing her, but I didn’t want to mess up my chance to work with Holly.

  The woman looked to be in her early forties. She was slim, freckled, and wore her light brown hair in a short ponytail. No makeup.

  “Diana, this is your latest discovery?” Holly smirked. “Are you kidding? This yokel is the great unwashed phenomenon who can raise animals from the grave?”

  Damn. Holly was obviously no Mary Poppins. I stammered, “D-don’t believe everything Diana tells you.”

  Too late, I remembered her warning to be nice. My smart mouth was always getting me into trouble. Luckily, Holly didn’t seem to take offense. She led us into her office, where I saw several dogs and one cat all lying listless in crates.

  She motioned for us to sit around a small table. “First, I need a sense of how good of a healer this guy is. I have a cat here with a broken tail, so let’s see what he can do for little ol’ Fuzzy.”

  Holly pulled a huge, long-haired Persian out of his crate, and he hissed at everyone. Holly handed him to me and then sat down beside me and slipped her small hand up the back of my shirt, like Diana always did. It was the best way for her to make a direct mental connection with me while my hands were full of raging tomcat.

  I ignored the claws digging into the skin on my a
rm and focused on sending calming thoughts to the panicked animal.

  After a moment, he settled down, and I stroked his soft fur to get to know him. Then I closed my eyes to focus on my magical core. Gently wrapping my fingers around the cat’s tail where it had broken, I began to sing a lullaby. After I had mentally connected with him, I realized why he was so angry. His tail hurt like hell.

  First, I soothed his fury. Then I thought of a straight tail and whispered, “Great Mystery Spirit, please remake these broken bones.”

  When the tail had straightened out, I squeezed my fingers into a tighter circle. My body tingled, and heat flamed up in my chest. The scent of catnip filled the room. I opened my eyes.

  Holly looked around until I said, “I don’t get it, either, but that smell always shows up.”

  When I opened my hand, the tail looked normal. I handed the cat to Holly, who examined him. Fuzzy began to purr.

  After checking the cat, Holly said, “Why, Diana, you conniving little harpy. I can’t believe you held out on me like this. How long have you known this boy can soothe the savage beast?”

  Diana smiled the smile of the victorious. “If you didn’t live like a hermit, you would’ve known weeks ago. I haven’t kept any secrets from those who actually return my phone calls or read my emails.”

  Holly shook her head. “You don’t know what you’ve got. His healing powers are good, helpful, but his real talent is relieving suffering.” She stared at me. “You don’t know, either, based on the blank look on your face.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. “Do you mean the Osage magic?”

  Holly looked at Diana with a smirk. “And you call yourself a witch?”

  Diana flushed red. “I’ve never claimed to understand his healing magic.”

  Holly laughed so hard that, for a moment, I thought she was going to stop breathing. After she’d finally gotten hold of herself, she said, “This is like finding a Rembrandt for ten bucks at a garage sale. I’ll pay the list price without haggling.”

  I was feeling more ignorant by the minute.

  Diana rolled her eyes and said, “So, reveal your blinding insight.”

  Holly hemmed and hawed like she didn’t want to say anything more.

  “I’m not asking again,” Diana snapped.

  With a small sigh, Holly said, “Fine. It’s very old Celtic magic. He can suck the pain out of people and animals. Mental anguish, too.” She turned to me. “When you get hurt, it only lasts for a few seconds, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Your ancestor, Eilwen O’Rourke, was also blessed with the power to relieve suffering. It’s very rare. It makes beating you in battle very tough. Keep that power secret. Keep it safe.”

  I still didn’t understand why Holly was making such a fuss. “Isn’t healing more important?”

  “Nope,” she said. “Healers can’t survive for long without having fighters protect them. And, in a fight, you can take a licking and keep on ticking. You’re blessed with the kind of immunity most magicians would sell their souls for.”

  Diana nodded. “Now, I get it. You’re sure?”

  “He’s like a diamond mixed in a bag of rock salt. Not obvious to the layman, but a jeweler would spot the difference in a second.”

  I was still trying to sort out what meant when Holly said, “Anyway, I’m the only one here who knows how to heal animals with magic. I’ve been working sixty-hour weeks for almost a year, and I’ve been here since six a.m. Let’s get started working on my latest nightmare.”

  I shivered with excitement. It was make or break time.

  “We’ve been overwhelmed with a kind of kennel cough the Bordetella vaccine doesn’t cover. I learned this technique from an amazing animal healer in Columbus, Ohio. He figured out that if he breathed on a sick animal’s face, Mendile’s magic boosted the animal’s immune system. Whatever happened, his patients got better right away.” Holly turned to Diana. “You know where the spring next to the waterfall is, right?”

  Diana nodded.

  “I give the animals a little spring water before I try to cure them. That helps too.”

  I’d visited the waterfall a few weeks ago and collected some of that water. “It’s the bubbles.”

  Holly laughed. “Lastly, you need to ask for Mendile’s help.”

  I muttered to myself, “Mendile, heal this dog.”

  Holly nodded. “I’ve tried to teach this technique to a couple of witches, but they couldn’t manage it. Maybe Ian, with his multiple magical personalities, can pull it off?”

  “I’d love to try,” I said.

  Holly took a Sheltie out of his kennel and gave him to me. He felt too warm, and when he barked, he sounded like a goose honking. She gave him some spring water, which he lapped up. Then, she whispered, “Go for it.”

  I breathed on his face and wrapped my right arm around him and stroked his chest with my hand. After a minute of gentle stroking, I said, “Mendile, heal this animal.”

  Seconds later, the Sheltie was breathing easier and acting more alert.

  Have I cured him?

  Holly listened to his lungs and checked his temperature. “Congratulations. His fever has disappeared. I’m so happy you have the time to help. You have special gifts, and I can show you how to develop them further.”

  “I’m thrilled,” I said. “But I thought my best healings came from Osage magic.”

  “It probably doesn’t matter what you call it,” the vet said. “Diana tells me you’ll have time on your hands until your livestock return to the ranch in May. I’d love to have your help here. How soon can you start?”

  A thrill ran through me. “Let’s say tomorrow.”

  “Yes siree. One more thing, though. Diana told me there’s some quirk about your magic. You gain power from healing?”

  I nodded.

  She shook her head. “That’s part of your gift for soothing. I should’ve realized immediately what’s going on.” She beamed at Diana. “If he goes missing, you might find him chained to the wall of one of my treatment rooms.”

  I laughed at the absurdity of the image she’d brought up in my mind. “Hopefully, as my powers improve, I’ll become a better fighter too. I keep running into strong sorcerers.”

  “Your fighting is what makes this work possible,” Diana said. “If we can’t defend ourselves, we’ll have to abandon the ranch and head west to the coast.”

  Holly grimaced. “I’d hate to abandon my long list of furry patients.”

  Chapter 3

  Friday, October 18th

  MY FIRST MORNING AT the animal hospital was uneventful, with lots of “I just wanted to say hi to the new guy” comments. I’d never worked for anyone but my relatives before, so that was weird but manageable.

  During breaks between introductions, I helped critters. One woman brought me a mongoose with cuts on his face and shoulders. He’d fought a pit bull and won, but he’d suffered terribly in the process. I healed him and soothed his shattered mind.

  At lunchtime, I decided to walk to a strip mall a block away where several fast food places beckoned. Boulder seemed to specialize in ultra-fancy convenience food as opposed to McDonald’s. I preferred simple hamburgers, which had kept me alive during college at Oklahoma State, to the fancy ones in town, but I seemed to be in the minority.

  I was walking out of the hospital, trying to decide between sushi and fish tacos, when I spotted someone loitering in the parking lot near the entrance.

  He was a white guy about the same age as me, mid-20s, and his brown hair was close-cropped. His neck and arms were covered with tattoos.

  Boulder had its share of weirdos—more than its fair share, actually—but most of them didn’t look like gang members. This guy was muscular, and he just happened to be carrying a walking stick.

  But who would hike in the parking lot of an animal hospital? Holly had worked here for years, she’d said, with no problems. He had to
be a sorcerer waiting for me.

  I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to rid the world of another scumbag, so I pretended not to recognize him and headed straight to my pickup. There, I grabbed my staff out of the cab.

  The asshole sidled up to me, doing his best not to appear menacing. As I was trying to come up with something clever to lure him in, he said, “I challenge you for magical power.” Then he froze, as usual, for ten seconds.

  The delay was supposed to give me a chance to get ready or run. I wasn’t running, particularly not when Holly Sullivan remained vulnerable inside the building.

  This guy has to go down now.

  I concentrated on my ward, visualizing a massive limestone outcropping I’d seen at Carter Pass. “Holar, protégé.”

  My invisible shield enveloped me instantly, and I kept part of my mind calm to maintain the ward. Then I let the rest of me get royally pissed to fuel fighting spells.

  He’d lain in ambush? Nothing was worse. I chewed on that ugly thought for a few seconds, letting my fury build. This guy had to be a hired gun trying to make money from making me suffer. Bastard.

  A loud buzzing in my years told me the fight was on, and the guy began to move.

  I yelled, “HOLARTHON, ASSOMME!”

  He twitched and then froze.

  It wasn’t the best stunning spell I’d ever conjured, but I hadn’t had much time either.

  Most of his body stayed rigid. Only his eyes moved, opening wider. This was the right time to finish him off, but I’d used up all my anger.

  One of the tattoos on his left arm showed two Roman gladiators fighting. That confirmed my assumption that he was a hired gun.

  Don’t give him a chance to recover, fool.

  I dropped my ward and staff to punch the guy in the face. That felt damned good. But I only landed two blows before he raised his own invisible wall to hold me off.

  He scrambled behind a pickup to shield himself, and I tried to do the same, running for cover behind a nearby SUV.

  But before I reached it, he yelled something in the sorcerers’ guttural language. A ball of red fire burst from his staff and hit me in the head.