Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two

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Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two Page 6

by Michael Arches


  “Great. Diana told me that in return for me letting you follow me around and be dazzled by my brilliance, you’ll do anything I want.”

  That wasn’t at all how Diana had explained our arrangement, but I didn’t have much negotiating room. After a second’s hesitation, I said, “Pretty much.”

  “The truth is, I could tell you everything useful I know about magic in a few days, so mostly I’m going to bullshit and bore you with long, meaningless stories. Go get one of the blank journals and a pen out of your bedroom and meet me in the living room.”

  I fought a groan but did as he said.

  The living room was warm because Gill had a wood stove lit already. As soon as I sat down in a wooden chair next to Gill that he pointed out, he began talking about his childhood. He spoke non-stop for three hours, interrupted only by short bathroom breaks. At 11 a.m., Julienne brought in two cups of warm tea and some freshly made tarts.

  Although my hand had cramped up terribly from taking notes, Gill kept talking. I struggled to eat and drink while writing as fast as I could. As best as I could determine, he hadn’t uttered a word that might be useful to anyone else.

  At noon, he asked, “How’re you doing?”

  “Since you asked, sir, not so good. My writing hand is killing me, and my butt’s sore from sitting in this hard chair for too long.”

  He grinned. “The good news is that you’re done writing for today. The bad news is that, within an hour, you’ll probably wish you were writing instead. First, let’s get lunch.”

  That consisted of some kind of seafood soup, along with an assortment of cheeses and freshly baked bread with butter. The soup tasted amazing to a farm boy who’d rarely eaten seafood. I couldn’t tell what all was in it, but it included shrimp and a mild, white-fleshed fish. At least I was going to have a full belly while I was suffering.

  At the end of lunch, Gill said, “I sent Diana a list of clothes for you to bring. I assume you have everything?”

  “I believe so.”

  “Wonderful. It’s about thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit outside and raining, so get dressed warm underneath and put on your slicker and boots. It’ll probably be like this for the entire time you’re here. Learn to love it.”

  That might be asking the impossible.

  He drove an old Volvo truck for what seemed like about ten miles to a beach and didn’t say a word along the way. I felt too intimidated to start a conversation, so I simply absorbed the scenery. The sky was a dreary gray, but almost everywhere around us was green. Lots of forests, pastures, and farmland. The growing season wasn’t over in this part of the world.

  When we arrived at the beach, the rain was pouring down. A strong wind was gusting in from the west, carrying the smell of salt and decaying seaweed. It was a nice scent nevertheless.

  He said, “It’s low tide. Grab the shovel and bucket out of the back and follow me.”

  Even though it was a nasty day, I was thrilled to finally see the mighty Atlantic Ocean up close and personal. Tall waves in the distance roared continuously.

  The beach extended out for a hundred yards. We walked toward the water, my feet sinking in the sand with each step, and the roar got louder. When we reached the waves, Gill asked, “Do you feel them?”

  I looked around but couldn’t see a living thing within hundreds of yards except for a few birds. “Who?”

  “The clams. They’re why we’re here.”

  I groaned. “I don’t understand.”

  He smiled. “Good. Accept that. If things go well, in less than a month, you will understand. Until then, don’t try to understand me or second-guess me. Just do as I say.”

  I gritted my teeth and nodded. “Why am I here, so obviously unqualified for what you want to teach? Where are your own disciples?”

  “All dead, and I didn’t have many to begin with. You’ve no doubt discerned that I’m not a particularly easy person to get along with. I could have chosen someone in France, but I don’t know any of them well. On the other hand, I’ve known Diana for fifteen years. While she’s not a fantastic witch—and please keep that nasty crack to yourself—she is a dear friend and a great leader for your clan.”

  “Silence will cost you extra.” I smirked.

  Laughing, he said, “I trust her, and after I told her I needed someone to dump my brilliance into, she insisted I meet you. She’s been terrified since our conversation that I’d be thoughtless enough to die before you could get here.”

  “Let’s hope I’m worthy of the wait.”

  “Amen to that. I’ll point to a spot, and you dig as fast as you can.”

  He pointed to a place where a wave had just receded. The sand hissed as water soaked into it and shifted the grains. Gulls circled overhead, screeching.

  I couldn’t see anything on the surface to suggest something lived below my feet, but I dug while the rain was lashing at us. The first time, I couldn’t move fast enough, and the clam moved downward too fast.

  The next time, I dug faster and hit one with the tip of the shovel. I tossed the shovel aside and reached into the sand at the bottom of the hole. The clam was pulling itself frantically downward, but I grabbed its shell and yanked it up. Laughing like a little kid, I showed my prize to Gill.

  He laughed. “Now, all we need are two dozen more, “and then we’ll have a nice dinner.”

  It took an hour of walking and digging to collect two dozen clams, and most of the time I couldn’t understand how Gill knew where I should dig. Finally, I asked.

  “Every living thing has a distinct aura. When your magic is advanced enough, you’ll feel the auras all around you, each distinct to its species.”

  “You’re a warrior, not a nature-lover,” I replied. “Why do you care about animals?”

  “I’m particularly good at sensing the auras of dark magicians, even if they try to hide. Humans have three different auras, and one of those shows how magical the person is. When you become more skilled as a witch, you’ll be able to sense those auras from farther away. In short, you won’t get caught by surprise.”

  “Good to know,” I said.

  By the time we got back to Gill’s house, it was dusk. I was bone-tired and hoped for a chance to rest, but before I went inside, I wanted to get a good look at my new home.

  The house was an ancient, rectangular, stone building, surrounded by a poorly weeded lawn and a well-tended vegetable garden. Puddles covered portions of the brick sidewalk from the garage to the house, and a light rain carried by the breeze dampened my face. I should’ve hated it, but I enjoyed the way it washed dried salt off my skin.

  Julienne took the bucket of clams from me at the door, and within ten minutes, I could smell them cooking from the living room, where I’d collapsed on a red velour sofa.

  Gill looked over at me from time to time, apparently wondering whether I was still breathing, but he didn’t say anything. He read a book until Julienne announced that dinner was ready.

  We ate stewed clams in silence. After we finished, I asked, “Sir, would you mind if I went to bed? I’m all done in from the time difference.”

  He nodded. “Sweet dreams.”

  -o-o-o-

  Thursday, October 31st

  THE NEXT MORNING, GILL talked non-stop for three hours again. By noon, he’d recalled his life up to age eighteen. It seemed ordinary in every way for a Texas farm boy, and he hadn’t hinted at knowing any magic, despite his prodigious talents now.

  In the afternoon, we hiked through dense forests and fields. He could walk remarkably fast for an old fart using a cane, and I was slowed down by fifty pounds of water and emergency supplies in case he was injured or became sick. I dreaded the idea that he’d collapse far from help, but he seemed vigorous enough to live forever.

  From time to time, he stopped and stood completely still, but I had no idea what had caught his attention. I asked him once, and he simply smiled.

  By the time we got back to his t
ruck, I was exhausted again. I was also soaked inside from sweat instead of the continual rain. In the deepest mud, I worked so hard that all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears.

  To make matters worse, I still hadn’t recovered from the time difference, and the stress of trying to understand the great master’s many quirks was wearing me out.

  After a simple dinner of a savory turnip soup, sliced tomatoes, and fresh bread, we sat in his living room.

  “Before you ask,” Gill said, “no, you can’t use the phone unless I’m gone. I hate the damned thing, and it’s only here for emergencies. You can, however, use the computer as much as you like, as long as the sound stays off. Our Internet connection is extremely slow, so no porn videos for you, but the slowness doesn’t affect text messages. The computer is hooked up to the witches’ encrypted network, so you can send secure messages back to Diana and your clan.”

  I sent emails to Boulder and Grandpa so everyone would know I was still alive. I didn’t try to describe my experiences in France because I didn’t understand them myself. Plus, I wasn’t supposed to be here, and I didn’t know who was aware of my travels and who wasn’t.

  In response, I received a half-dozen replies, including a long, sappy email from Laura about the happenings at the ranch. Her message produced my only happy moment of the day.

  -o-o-o-

  Friday, November 1st

  THE NEXT MORNING, I wrote as fast as I could. Our routine remained the same, but Gill’s life was finally becoming interesting. He was relating his growing panic as his troop ship approached France on the night before D-Day.

  At noon, he stared at me and asked, “Do you realize why I’ve bored you for the last few days?”

  I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have a clue. I’m dying to hear. I’m sure that any man as brilliant as you must’ve had a good reason to use up all of these hours of your life. I’m just too stupid to see the point.”

  “Boy, are you in for a let-down.” He snickered. “My only purpose has been to indulge my vanity. Up to this point in my life, everything was incredibly ordinary.”

  I did feel let down.

  He reached over and patted my hand. That was the first time we’d touched. I felt a strong jolt of electricity, the first real indication I’d had that this old geezer was anywhere near as powerful as Diana had claimed.

  He jerked his hand away and then touched me again. This time, he didn’t let go. “Now, I see. Diana didn’t tell me you’re a soother. That’ll come in real handy.”

  I sighed. “I’m not sure it helps much for fighting.”

  He snorted. “What? You’re telling me your ability to absorb ten times more punishment than any normal witch isn’t helpful? Are you crazy?”

  Apparently, I was. My face warmed. There was so much about magic I didn’t understand.

  He blew out a deep breath. “I apologize for boring you and now annoying you. The truth is, I thought you’d need a few days to decompress from your hectic life and your exhausting trip. I hope this mindless scribbling and our jaunts outside have distracted you and separated you mentally from your past.”

  Finally, something he’d said made sense. “Thanks. I did need a break.”

  “And what I’ll describe tomorrow should seem extraordinary by comparison.”

  “Okay, I’m all tingly with anticipation.” Which happened to be true.

  He looked at me askance. “Don’t mock me, son. Now, it’s time for lunch.”

  As usual, the three of us ate in silence. It occurred to me that Gill’s life was mostly filled with silence. There was no TV in the house, and the only radio was in the kitchen. Maybe Julienne turned it on from time to time, but I hadn’t heard it. The only sounds inside this old place were human voices and the noises produced by cooking, washing, and moving around. For all intents and purposes, this building was a monastery.

  After lunch, Gill took me out to a covered porch in the back that looked over a pasture containing a small herd of goats. It was raining again, but there was no wind today. Gill pointed at a pair of woven cane lawn chairs with thick cushions, and we sat side by side.

  He reached over and held my hand. I practically burned from the contact, and I tried to jerk away, but he held on with a vise-like grip.

  “So, you have some weird Indian shit floating around your magical core. Diana told me she didn’t understand it, either.”

  “O-Osage tribal magic,” I said with a tremor I couldn’t control. “I’m getting help understanding it from my tribal elders. It s-seems to be mostly healing power, but it works much differently from Mendile m-magic.”

  “I don’t know anything about either one. All my strength comes from Holar. That’s all I can teach you, and that seems to be where you’re the weakest.”

  I couldn’t disagree.

  “I’m not sure that I can do you much good,” he said as he let go of my hand.

  I was beginning to wonder, too, and my stomach sank as I thought of all the time I’d wasted by coming here.

  After pausing for a minute, he said, “Let’s try an experiment. Stand. I’ll give you a little insult to resent, and you hit me with your best attack spell.”

  I stood and towered over him. Although Gill could be a bit bossy, I didn’t feel any resentment toward him. He was trying his best to help me, and that counted for a hell of a lot. “I can’t get pissed at you, so my attacks won’t work.”

  He sneered. “Oh, yeah? How about this, pussy!” He kicked me in balls, hard, and laughed.

  Wheezing, I bent over and ached as I tried to catch my breath. Damn, that hurt. What a nasty prick.

  I stepped back a couple of steps, and, without thinking, I pointed at him. “HOLARTHON, CHOQUE!”

  A bolt of green lightning fired from my finger into his chest. The force of it knocked him down, flat onto his back, and he lay there motionless.

  “Wakonda, save him!”

  I rushed over to him and felt for a pulse at his neck. I thought for a moment that I’d killed the old bastard, but I felt life pulsing in his carotid artery. Placing both hands on his chest, I willed him to feel more comfortable and hoped I hadn’t physically injured him.

  A powerful burst of pain shot into me from him, but I’d expected that, and it soon dissipated. His chest moved up and down, so I knew he was breathing, but he took an agonizingly long minute to open his eyes.

  “Fucking son of a bitch!” he yelled at me. “Don’t you know I’m over a hundred? You almost killed me!”

  “I’m sorry, I swear, so sorry.”

  He kept swearing at me, and his face turned red. I kept apologizing, and I fought back the temptation to remind him that he’d told me to give him my best shot. It wasn’t my fault he’d been too cocky to raise a ward.

  After a few minutes, I carried him back to the comfortable chair he’d been sitting in before. “Do you want me to call your doctor or take you to an emergency room?”

  “No, although I wouldn’t mind seeing you behind bars in a French jail. They don’t coddle criminals here, kiddo.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “You could’ve warned me that your Indian voodoo shit works with Holar magic. You said that weirdness was healing magic, you lying bastard.”

  He’d tested my power, and he could see from the slivers of past victories over sorcerers in my eyes that I’d kicked a few asses in the past. But I kept my mouth shut and savored the thought of telling the folks back home that I’d knocked one of the Holar Guild’s greatest masters on his ass. Of course, he hadn’t been prepared for my attack, but he should’ve been.

  I sat next to him silently while he was muttering under his breath about how he was going to pay me and Diana back for tricking him.

  Finally, he reached over to touch me again. “Give me another blast of that soothing shit of yours. It’s like mainlining meth.”

  I took his hand and prayed to help him, but he seemed back to normal. He’d cl
osed his mind to me, but his body felt healthy. I drained away the last residuals of his pain and let it vanish. Then I let go of him and waited for his next move. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be another kick to my balls.

  He rubbed his head with his hands. “You’re never to speak a word about this to anyone. You got that?”

  I fought disappointment. “Yes, sir.”

  “To make sure,” he said, “you’ll pledge fealty to me as my disciple now.”

  That had to mean he’d decided I was worth his time after all, so I grinned. “Yes, Master.”

  Gill went inside the house and returned wearing a white cloak with a hood over his head. He brought with him all the fixings for a Celtic ceremony, including a thick white candle that he lit and set on a garden table.

  I stood. He spoke in Gaelic, waving an athamé around, and then he said in English, “Do you, of your own free will, pledge yourself entirely to me as your lord and master until I release you?”

  I shuddered at the total control I was about to give him. Diana had better know what she had gotten me into. “I do.”

  “Give me your right hand,” he said.

  I extended it, and he sliced the back of my forearm with the tip of the blade. My blood flowed, and the athamé carved a second white Celtic cross on my skin near Diana’s. I now had to answer to two masters, and neither was as trustworthy as I’d like.

  Too bad, idiot. You get what you get.

  Gill burned my blood in the candle, and the cross burst into flame for a moment.

  “Kiss my foot.”

  I’d been through this drill before. Not having any choice, I didn’t even try to fight it.

  “Be glad I didn’t tell you to kiss my bony ass.”

  I was, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “So, I don’t need to hitch a ride back to Boulder?”

  “I’m not sure, smartass. Need to think.”

  We sat silently for about ten minutes. All I heard was the gentle tapping of raindrops on the asphalt roof above us, and the tinkling of water running from the gutters to a downspout.

  Then, he said, “One thing’s clear. Your magical core’s a mess. You’ve got a lot of crap to clean out.”

 

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