Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two

by Michael Arches

  I RETURNED TO WORK, and the madhouse was busier than ever. It somehow comforted me to fall back into my old routines.

  At the end of the day, Holly asked me to stop by her office. I did, and said, “I’m so sorry to have left you in the lurch for a month. I’ve had a great time today.”

  She waved her hand, dismissing my worry. “It seemed like a priceless opportunity for you. How’d it work out?”

  “Fantastic.” I told her how much magic I’d learned, and I described some of Gill’s quirks.

  We had several good laughs, and then she said, “I think it’s time for you to expand your horizons.”

  Was she firing me? I didn’t know what to say. “Have I done something wrong today? Did I stay away too long?”

  “No, no, not at all.” She smiled. “It seems selfish for me to keep you here full-time when you could benefit from working with other witches, too.”

  That sounded like a sugarcoated kiss-off. I stuttered for a moment and then said, “I love it here. I appreciate you and your staff, and I adore helping your patients.”

  She beamed. “Delighted to hear it. We’d love for you to keep working here part-time, but there’s not much more I can teach you about healing.”

  She was confusing the hell out of me. “Are you sure I haven’t annoyed you? My schedule has been impossible lately, but I can work overtime to catch up.”

  Holly shook her head. “You haven’t annoyed me. It’s just that, after you left, I talked to Diana. She was struggling to find a witch who taught martial arts. We know mostly Celtic witches, not Asian magicians. Anyway, I told her about this guy I know, Don Blake, who hides in plain sight in Denver.”

  I’d never heard the name. “A witch?”

  She nodded. “Don and I met in grad school. He was getting his masters in Phys. Ed. at CSU, and I was in vet school. He’s got powers, but nothing to brag about. Don makes his living running a karate club, a job that takes no magic at all. But his students usually crush their opponents in tournaments.”

  Now I understood. She trying to help me, not dump me. That made the decision easy. “I’m happy to work with whoever you recommend.”

  “Terrific. I have to warn you, though—Don is an acquired taste. He also has trouble warming up to people. He prefers to talk with his fists and feet. In addition, understand that full-contact karate is an intense sport.”

  “Now you’re trying to talk me out of it?”

  “Nope.” She laughed. “Nobody needs Don’s help more than you. He’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen.”

  “You’re the best doctor I’ve ever seen.”

  Her eyes filled. “That’s really sweet, but I’m serious. He’s amazing. He’s not only skilled technically, but he has an indomitable will. Never gives up.”

  Again, she was sending mixed signals, but I could tell that she wanted to be helpful. “I’ll call him today.”

  “Understand another thing. I’m not sure he’ll take you, but if he does, you’ll learn an incredible amount.”

  “I appreciate you looking out for me. You’ve been a great inspiration.”

  She grinned. “You should’ve felt the thrill that just went through me.”

  Thanks to her expressive face, I had seen its effect. I could’ve used the telepathic power Gill had helped me develop, but that would be intrusive.

  -o-o-o-

  Gundy’s Roadhouse and Saloon, Boulder, Colorado

  AFTER WORK, I MET the reporter at a local restaurant with a rowdy Texas style. I’d visited the place before, and I was happy to get a table in the back where George and I could talk in peace. I ordered the brined pork chops and a beer.

  George was short, thin, and bald, except around the sides, where his hair was white. His nose had been broken, and a scar on his neck suggested he’d led a wild life. Hopefully, he wouldn’t find my story too crazy.

  “So,” he said with a grin, “Diana tells me you want to unburden your heart. The law back home done you wrong.”

  I couldn’t tell whether he thought this was a big joke or some tall tale. “First, do you believe in magic?”

  He sipped his root beer and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Don’t know that I could say. I’ve seen some crazy shit, but usually back when I was drinking hard. I’m sober over eight years now. What does it matter whether I believe you or not? If your story sounds right, and you’ve got some proof, the editors might print it.”

  “What if I’ve got proof but I can’t show it to you?”

  “Then you’ve got nothing. Given your notoriety, the paper might publish your story anyway, but who’s gonna believe you?”

  He had a point. “What if I tell you what happened, and then we talk about how good my evidence is?”

  He leaned back in his chair and downed his root beer. “Amaze me.”

  I told him everything I could recall about how Cantor and Escobar used magic to shock and then kill my parents, my brother, and his twin teenaged daughters. I also described how Escobar went into the barn, and I later heard that my sister-in-law had also died. The only part I left out was how I’d recorded a video of the murders.

  Our waitress brought our food, and we ate as I finished my story.

  After I ended with how I got away, he said, “Interesting story. Real detailed, which is good. I take it from our discussion earlier that nobody else saw this happen. Right?”

  I nodded.

  “And you’ve got no other proof you’re willing to talk about?”

  “Except that the sheriff originally wanted me charged with murder and arson, but the prosecutors refused to indict me.”

  George shook his head. “That’s only evidence that they couldn’t prove the charges against you, not that the sheriff and the regional slayer boss actually did the dirty deed.”

  “Why else would Escobar have been there?” I asked.

  George shrugged and used a toothpick to clean his teeth. “This is a classic your-word-against-theirs situation. Now that Cantor is dead, it’s your word against Escobar’s. He’s a nasty guy, no doubt about that, but the paper’s not likely to mention him unless you’ve got good proof. You’re accusing him of murder and arson, and the paper wouldn’t care to get sued for libel.”

  When I finished my pork chops, I thought about whatever other evidence I could point to. Nothing.

  “Let me talk to my lawyer and see what I can show you.”

  George nodded, and we split the bill.

  -o-o-o-

  AS SOON AS I got to my pickup, I called Nicky. It was about 7:30 p.m., but I knew he and his partner worked late a lot. Sure enough, he picked up.

  I explained Diana’s plan to get our side of the story out.

  “Sure,” he said. “She told me about it. The short answer is, it’s your life in the balance. If you get extradited to Oklahoma, they’re gonna want to fry your ass. Actually, they’ll want to give you the needle, and the best drugs to kill a man aren’t available anymore. The stuff they use hardly works, and you could be in pain for an hour before you die. If you want to increase the chances of that happy fate, feel free to use your best evidence now instead of springing it on an Oklahoma jury during trial.”

  Nicky obviously wasn’t in the mood to pull his punches. “I hear you. What if we showed the video to the reporter on condition that he and his editors not disclose what the proof is?”

  Nicky paused for a minute. “Depends on what you want to accomplish. If it’s just to get the paper to print your story, that might work. If you hope to convince readers, you have to give them more than your word.”

  After I got back to the ranch, I told Diana what I’d discussed with George and Nicky.

  “Talk to George in the morning,” she said. “First get a written nondisclosure agreement and run it by Nicky. Then you can show George the video, but you need to be with him to explain it as he sees it. The images are too far away for everything to be obvious. And a big storm is coming, so you
won’t be able to meet until it passes.”

  -o-o-o-

  Wednesday, November 27th

  Brigid’s Community Ranch, Boulder County, Colorado

  THE STORM HIT OVERNIGHT, and we were stuck at the ranch until the county could plow the main road. I called George and explained the need for an ironclad nondisclosure agreement. We turned that problem over to the lawyers, and I waited for word from Nicky or his partner Felicity that I could show my proof.

  While I was waiting, Laura suggested, and I agreed, that this would be the perfect time to learn cross-country skiing.

  Herman let me borrow skis, boots, and poles, and Laura and Christina showed me how to use them to glide on the snow. That was actually the easy part. The hard part was figuring out how to stop gliding on the snow or make a turn. They made it look effortless, which it definitely wasn’t.

  I was big and strong, but not particularly well-coordinated. And I quickly learned that the muscles needed for cross-country skiing were unique. Despite all my farm work and hiking, my legs soon screamed with pain.

  “Everybody starts out that way,” Christina said as she slid farther ahead of me with the grace of an angel.

  While I was struggling to catch up, I noticed a few animal auras around me. They had to be mice and other rodents underneath the snow. The woods that looked so empty were filled with hidden critters. That was a revelation. I was never truly alone, even when I was walking by myself.

  Just before lunchtime, Felicity called to say that the agreement had been finalized. I sent in a faxed signature page, and so did the newspaper’s publisher. Then I called George, and we scheduled a meeting for Thursday.

  -o-o-o-

  THAT EVENING, I ATE lasagna with Diana in the dining area, and we talked about Holly’s recommendation.

  Diana said, “I’ve known her for over a decade, and she’s never steered me wrong.”

  “It’s not just that I don’t like meeting new people.” I said with a sigh. “Which, of course, I don’t, but I need to learn martial arts to have a chance against better fighters.”

  Diana paused before answering. “I’ve spoken to Blake. He wants a hundred bucks an hour to teach you, which is outrageous, and he claims he probably won’t accept you until you get some basic martial arts training somewhere else.”

  “That does seem ridiculous, and Holly says the guy is an ‘acquired taste.’ I think she means he’s an asshole.”

  Diana nodded. “I can keep looking, but in over a month, I’ve found no one better. By the way, I want a blood oath that you won’t use your training to challenge my authority.”

  That shocked me. I stuffed a piece of garlic bread into my mouth and mumbled, “I’ve never hinted at that.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve thought it, and Crystal agrees that you might snap in one of your nastier moments.”

  I groaned. “I can’t believe you’re that insecure. The last thing I want to do is to take over management of this place. I’m not a political guy.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you refusing the oath?”

  When she put it like that, the answer was easy. “No, but I swear loyalty to you virtually every week.”

  That apparently wasn’t often enough. I stuck out a finger, and she pricked it with a pin. After a drop of blood had formed, she asked, “Do you solemnly swear on your life that you will not attack the leadership of Brigid’s Community Ranch for any reason while you are residing here?”

  “Yep.”

  She touched the tip of her finger to mine and smeared my blood on her skin. Then she leaned back in her chair and smiled. I’d heard of paranoid leaders, but she was the first I’d known personally.

  “As your vassal, I couldn’t do it anyway.”

  “This oath will operate beyond your time as my vassal.”

  I shrugged and told her about the old book Gill had given me.

  “Katie mentioned it,” Diana said. “He’s right that someone magical at CU might be able to read it, but Katie knows those professors. I don’t. Let her handle it.”

  I nodded. “I’ll talk to her. By the way, this lasagna needs more marinara sauce next time.”

  Diana shrugged. “I know everybody thinks I rule this world, but the chef decides. File your complaint with her instead of me.”

  Everybody knew she ruled this world, but we were too polite to complain about what we needed to accept to keep her in charge. Nobody else around could keep this place operating smoothly, so we accepted the way she lorded over all of us and pampered herself.

  “Nice diamond earrings you’ve got there,” I commented.

  “Thank you. I found them at a jewelry store in Cherry Creek.”

  Nope, she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about showering herself with goodies.

  For dessert, I chose the tiramisu, and it was delicious. After a few minutes of savoring it, I asked, “What do I do about Blake?”

  “I’ll tentatively agree to his terms and arrange an interview so he can decide whether you’re worthy enough to take up his precious time.”

  She was being sarcastic, but I wasn’t sure whether it was pointed at me or Blake. I was puzzling through it when Diana said, “I have other news. Tess finally figured out how the sorcerers are tracking us after we leave the ranch. There’s a rundown house about a half-mile east of our entrance. That bastard, Sid Hudson, rented it and installed someone in the attic who spies on vehicles entering and leaving our ranch. The spy must call him or text him with regular reports.”

  That was an excellent discovery. “How did she figure it out?”

  “A couple of weeks ago, she noticed a reflection of sunlight from the attic one evening. I paid for an expensive spotting scope, and she used it in the van parked near our entrance. She saw the man with his own spotting scope.”

  Lots of us had been jumped at one time or another as we headed toward town. It was time to put that to a stop. “Maybe I’ll drop by that place tomorrow.”

  Diana nodded. “He’s only there during the day. I’m quite anxious to meet him.”

  After dinner, I met with Katie to share a bottle of wine and talk about Gill’s book. Tess’s mom was always a pleasure to deal with, unlike Diana and Crystal, who veered from hot to cold with no explanation.

  Before she would talk about the book I had given her, she said, “You have to tell me all about France. I love the ocean, and I’ve enjoyed emailing back and forth with Gill. He’s quite a character.”

  That was an understatement. I told her about my adventures, and she was as good an audience as Laura.

  “I’d so love to meet him,” she finally said.

  “Is it possible for him to get here the same way I got there?”

  She nodded. “But the time shift is a lot harder on older folks. He’d have to stay for a month to make it worth the brain damage.”

  I certainly didn’t want him to suffer. “Is that something Laura could heal?”

  Katie looked puzzled. “Good question. I’ll find out.”

  Then she let me talk about the book. I told her what little Gill had told me.

  She patted it, still in its box. “I’m so excited. Sounds like it’s priceless. I’ll put it in the safe deposit box we have in town for safekeeping. Then I’ll set up a meeting for both of us with a professor at CU, Fred Mendelev. He’s supposed to be a brilliant scholar.”

  -o-o-o-

  Thursday, November 28th

  I GOT UP EARLY because I had a cleanup job to accomplish before I headed to my real job. As I drove out of the ranch, I spotted the old house that Diana had mentioned. Tess had also filled me in with more details.

  I examined the attic window, but because the sun was behind the house, I couldn’t see much. The attic window faced west, so after I passed the house, I knew the watcher wouldn’t be able to see me any longer.

  Instead of continuing on the road to Boulder, I turned on a spur road east of the rundown house. The place looked like
it was empty, but an old Jeep was parked on the street nearby. I parked my truck behind some evergreens farther away and walked toward the house with my staff in hand. A handful of windows faced me, but dark curtains covered them. Footsteps in the snow told me someone had walked up to the covered front porch since the last storm.

  I snuck up the steps to the porch to avoid making any noise. As I reached the top, the amulet gave me a sharp shock to the chest. A sorcerer had to be inside.

  I stopped for a moment to recover from the pain and wondered how Gill had endured it at his age. He was one tough old rooster.

  The front porch’s decking was weather-beaten, but it didn’t creak. I tried to open the front door, but it was locked. The door was old, and I could’ve broken it down, but that would’ve ruined my chance to surprise my prey. Luckily, Tess had taught me a spell to release the lock.

  I whispered, “Apre serratura.”

  The door popped open.

  The entryway opened into an old living room. No lights were on, and because the windows were all shaded, the room was only dimly lit. The last people who’d lived here must’ve taken their furniture with them, because the room was mostly empty. A few old photographs were still hanging on the walls, and a tattered tan rug covered the center of the floor. That was it. Dust coated the floor except for a pathway from the front entrance to the staircase leading to the upper floors. The room smelled musty, as though water had been getting in somewhere.

  A low hum startled me. Then I realized it was a heater kicking on. The more noise it made, the better.

  I headed up, moving carefully and slowly on the stairs in case one of the treads might creak. A couple of them did give slightly under my feet, but they made minimal noise. When I reached the second floor, I could hear music above me. The sorcerer was listening to rock ‘n roll. Even better. The music would likely drown out any sounds I made before I was ready to pounce.

  I walked down the hallway on the second floor, looking for the stairs up to the attic. On the way, I passed several empty bedrooms. The dust covering their floors hadn’t been disturbed. The only room that appeared to have gotten any use recently was a bathroom. Its ceiling light was on, and there was no dust there.