Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two

by Michael Arches

  I reached over and hugged Gill with one arm. “When you’re at death’s door, one day hopefully a long time from now, and you want to give up your magic, it’ll have to go to someone disinterested. Them’s the rules, Master.”

  While Gill was mumbling to himself, Samuel said, “I have a different idea. Gill tells me you and he can share feelings telepathically. You and I should be able to do the same. That could help considerably, because your supporters could share with you the pain of Oran’s spells. That will help you tolerate them better and recover faster.”

  Gill looked at Samuel. “Terrific idea. Why didn’t I think of that? It’ll be like he’s fighting all of us at once. The more people we can encourage to join in, the better.”

  I thought about the idea. “Remember, I already have Eilwen’s power to shrug off pain.”

  Gill and Samuel nodded. Then Gill said, “If we all share, that’s like multiplying Eilwen’s gift dozens of times.”

  Grandpa shared magic with me and Gill, and we found that we could share feelings up to fifty feet away. I was proud of how clever Samuel was. We broke the connection and renewed it a dozen times. It came so naturally to him.

  “Do we need to teach this to everyone who comes to support me?” I asked.

  Grandpa nodded. “We’ll also make sure everybody holds hands to strengthen the sharing.”

  -o-o-o-

  THAT AFTERNOON, HOLLY AND Don came, and I talked candidly with them about the likelihood of losing my powers.

  I said to Holly, “I’m afraid my work for you would be affected most of all. I want so much to help save those critters.”

  “All false modesty aside,” she said, “I know more than enough magic to heal our patients where it’s possible. What I can’t do as well as you, for some unknown reason, is to soothe them and their parents—particularly the ladies.”

  She loved to tease me about how much female pet owners liked me now that my face had been prettied up.

  “I don’t need you two to feel sorry for me if I lose my powers,” I said.

  “That’s not going to happen!” Don said. “Your karate is fantastic lately. You’ll beat him to a pulp with your full range of techiniques. In fact, I think you should quit working for the crazy bitch vet. I can hire you full-time as a trainer. I’ll pay a lot better, too, and nobody will ask you to clean up dog shit. This is the perfect time for you to leave that lame excuse for a hospital.”

  I smiled at his transparent effort to make me feel more confident. “The only way I’m leaving Holly is if she fires me. I still love helping animals. But it’s nice to know that I have a backup plan if I lose my magic and, by some miracle, escape slavery.”

  -o-o-o-

  THAT EVENING AT DINNER, Gill said, “Well, I wasted several hours today trying to learn how to transform myself into you so I could take your place with Oran.”

  It was Mexican night, and I almost spit out a mouthful of beef enchilada. The thought of him looking like me was too ridiculous for words. “You’d have to put on sixty pounds, maybe more.”

  “You’re not alone,” Tess said. She’d been extra-nice lately for some reason. “Everyone prefers that they lose their powers instead of Ian.”

  “You can all forget it,” I said. “Nobody’s taking the hit for me. Why don’t you spend your time thinking of ways we can surprise that asshole?”

  As usual, I met everyone in the lounge after dinner, even though Diana had canceled our New Year’s Eve party. They all looked like they were attending a funeral. Crystal teared up once, but she was handling things better than most of the others.

  “Diana,” I said. “You look like you’ve aged ten years in the last week.”

  She nodded, and Crystal hugged her. Then she had a good cry on Crystal’s shoulder.

  I stood with my shoulders drooping, unsure what to do or say. No one else spoke, nor would they look at me.

  Finally, I had to speak up. “I’m not beaten yet, so you can stop acting like this is a wake.”

  “I didn’t feel this depressed after my dad died twenty years too soon,” Katie said. “Try as I might, I can’t think of a way to avoid this trap. All I know is that if I ever meet Escobar in a dark alley, he’s a dead man.”

  The comment caught me by surprise, because Katie was the gentlest person I knew. Plus, she had zero chance in a fight with the most powerful sorcerer in the state in an alley or anywhere else.

  Despite everyone’s assumption that Oran would probably beat me, Laura remained upbeat. Whenever anyone looked depressed, as they often did, she took it upon herself to cheer them up.

  When I finally noticed that there were too many depressed people around to cheer up individually, I said, “Look, everyone, the worst that can happen to you is that you’ll be forced to move to a witch community in some fancy town on the West Coast for ten years. I hear the weather’s much better in Malibu Beach.”

  Tess snapped, “It’s not us we’re worried about, doofus. You’ll end up as Oran’s bitch for a while, fighting as a gladiator and making the scumbag a boatload of money before someone kills you.”

  I tried to ignore the pity. “With all the help I’m getting, I’ll whip Oran’s ass for sure. This isn’t the Last Supper. Let’s see a few more smiles!”

  Everyone faked a smile and pretended to relax. Not because I’d convinced them; they all just wanted to be helpful, and resignation wasn’t helpful. So we celebrated the end of the year and got roaring drunk.

  Our party didn’t break up until midnight, when we sang “Auld Lang Syne” together, mostly off-key.

  Chapter 19

  Wednesday, January 1st

  I SPENT THIS DAY of new beginnings concocting an unorthodox strategy to win, huddling with Diana, Tess, Samuel, and Gill in Diana’s office. We reviewed every possible spell or strategy that might come in handy, and I wrote them down on three-by-five cards. The best part was that all these options helped me ignore how very long the odds were.

  Finally, after three hours of gabbing, I said, “I think we’re done. Everything that can be said has been said. I’m going skiing with Laura and Christina to clear my head.”

  The three of us wandered the cross-country ski trails winding through the meadows and forest on the ranch. I had no aim in mind, only to spend time with them while the weather was good. This time of year, it could change at any minute. This might be the last chance we’d have to spend time together outdoors, and I didn’t want to lose it.

  In particular, I didn’t want to lose them. Both of them were acting happy and carefree, but Laura wasn’t fooling me. Her lips trembled, and she had trouble speaking, just like me.

  After a while, I understood fully what was at stake for me on the fourth, but I still had a little time to improve my chances. I needed to open my mind to new possibilities.

  My instincts told me the best way to surprise the sorcerers would be to use Osage magic. They didn’t know how Pestone had lost, and it was possible I could pull a similar trick again. At least, Washta needed to be on the sidelines as part of my support team. I might get the chance to surprise Oran with him, and a surprise could break his concentration and lower his ward. That was the key—keep the asshole guessing.

  I wondered whether it would be better to fight hand-to-hand or with spells. He was powerfully built, obviously a weightlifter, but had he trained to fight physically? Probably. Sorcerers used every approach they could. I’d have to try both fists and spells to see which worked best.

  -o-o-o-

  Thursday, January 2nd

  I SPENT THE NEXT two days I spent practicing what I already knew and meditating for hours at a time. Both Gill and Samuel were convinced that a close connection with the gods would be crucial, but I couldn’t seem to make any progress. Maybe I was too stressed to reach the right meditative state, but, whatever the reason, hours of staring at candles had no direct payoff.

  I was as ready as I could get, and we still hadn’t come up wi
th any surefire winning approach. I remembered Gill describing the sheer terror he’d felt at Omaha Beach on the morning of D-Day, and I thought I had an inkling of that feeling. And, like him, there was no way I was going to turn back. Better to lose the battle than lose my honor. If people were going to be talking about me after tomorrow, I wasn’t going to be shamed by what they might say.

  As darkness was falling, Francis and I prepared the sweat lodge, and after a fire had heated the rocks enough, we carried them inside the lodge. Grandpa led us in prayer to Wakonda, not to ask for specific powers but to align our desires with His. The Great Mystery Spirit would only help me if I was furthering His plans.

  -o-o-o-

  January 4th

  Gardner Open Space Park, Boulder County, Colorado

  A FEW MINUTES BEFORE the appointed time, I arrived with my entourage at the park Escobar had designated for the fight. It was where I’d met Oran twice to ride horses in peace and to try to avoid this clash.

  Lazarus was circling overhead, and Washta was sitting next to me in Diana’s SUV. God only knew what either animal thought was about to happen—maybe an early morning group hike.

  The parking lot was packed with cars. Thirty people had committed to supporting me, and Samuel had trained all of them to share my feelings. It looked like a few others had decided to come at the last minute. I recognized everyone except for a half-dozen people standing near Oran and Escobar. They were standing at the south end of the parking lot.

  The park’s large meadow and the sandstone formation were covered with a heavy frost. My breath fogged in the cold morning air, but the sun was shining brightly to the east, promising to warm us up soon. Not bad for a sunrise in early January in Colorado.

  Escobar took his group out onto the meadow, where they huddled together. I led my supporters onto the field of battle about a hundred feet away from our enemies.

  I’d dressed in my normal clothes for a weekend, namely blue jeans, a calico shirt, a corduroy jacket, and cowboy boots. I wanted to look exactly like who I was, a simple farm boy caught in a bizarre alternate universe. But before I dressed, I’d rubbed ashes on my chest from the fire that had consumed the scalp of one of my greatest enemies, Sheriff Ron Cantor.

  Although I could see no wildlife, I could sense a number of animals both underground and hidden in the tall grass. Their auras reassured me. If I had to lose my freedom today—or my life—at least this was a comfortable final resting place.

  Dear Mórrígan, I pray for your strength in battle. Lord, your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Wakonda, I ask for your blessing in confronting the enemies of the Osage people.

  Escobar yelled, “Why do you have so many witches with you?”

  I yelled back, “I sold tickets. Isn’t that what you do at your gladiator fights?”

  Every witch who’d supported me over the last few months had turned out. They chuckled at my sick sense of humor.

  Escobar scowled. “Are you ready?”

  The queasiness in my stomach vanished. “Give us a minute.”

  I gathered everyone in a circle. Gill began reciting a song in Gaelic about a great battle a thousand years ago. Those who knew the words joined in, and slowly, the queasiness in my stomach vanished.

  After we’d finished, I said, “No matter what happens, don’t despair. As long as I’m still standing, keep sending me positive thoughts and prayers. Everyone mentally connected to me has a special role in this drama, so don’t distract them. Everyone who is willing to suffer with me needs to stay within fifty feet of me. Remember, if this goes bad, it’s all part of the gods’ glorious plan.”

  We broke apart, and I turned to Escobar. “Ready!”

  I advanced with my staff, alone, into the field between the two groups. Mentally, I was connected to almost everyone on my side, plus Washta and Lazarus. As I approached the sorcerers, Oran marched out to face me holding a shillelagh. His face was grim. Although his group yelled insults at me, I ignored them and focused all my attention on their champion.

  When Oran and I were about twenty yards apart, Escobar yelled, “A challenge has been made and answered. Neither combatant may leave the field of battle until one of them has conceded. Let this battle for territory begin.”

  Someone on their side of the field blew a note on a ram’s horn.

  The familiar buzzing sound started in my head, and I created my protective ward. It was sure to take quite a beating, so I concentrated on my memory of the limestone wall at the top of Carter Pass to make the shield as strong as possible.

  Oran’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke in a voice pitched low enough that only I could hear him. “No quarter asked or given, Ian, but if you give up now, I promise to release you from slavery.”

  His melodic Irish lilt still encouraged me to believe he wasn’t the selfish prick I knew him to be. He’d been forced into this fight, but he’d freely chosen to become a sorcerer years ago. That choice had led him here. Still, his offer surprised me. Unfortunately, it would mean that our clan would lose the ranch and get kicked out of the Rockies. I couldn’t concede that benefit to him without a fight.

  “I appreciate your generosity,” I said. “Really, I do, but I swore to defend Brigid’s clan against all enemies. I’m here to honor that oath.”

  “As you wish,” Oran replied.

  He must’ve expected my response, because he immediately hurled a bolt of red lightning from his shillelagh.

  The blast crashed against my ward and rocked me backwards. My shield cracked but didn’t give way. I focused on it again and forgot about fighting back for the moment. Hopefully, he’d wear himself out before my shield failed.

  “You’re taunting me!” Oran yelled. “Why don’t you fight back?”

  I didn’t want to help build his anger, so I stayed silent and motionless.

  He hurled another lightning bolt, and this time, my ward cracked enough for the electricity to sneak through. I smelled burnt hair. It had to be mine, so I patted my head to put the fire out. He’d singed me, but it didn’t burn enough to hurt much.

  I took two calming breaths and remembered standing on the natural limestone rampart at the divide. I could remember how cold and solid that rock had been, and how earthy it had smelled.

  My barrier reformed, stronger than before. I raised my gaze to the heavens and opened my arms like I had on the beach in Brittany.

  Great Mystery Spirit, I thank You for Your many blessings. Help me find justice for my slaughtered nieces, Mercy and Molly.

  For a moment, everything else around me vanished, and I stood alone in a cloud of mist. Then I saw the faces of my two nieces hovering above me, smiling as they usually had in life. After the fog had cleared, I spotted Escobar. He’d helped kill the six members of my family I’d lost in early September. They all deserved justice.

  I pointed my staff at Escobar’s champion and yelled, “HOLARTHON, ELBO FRAPPE!”

  Bursts of green lightning shot from my staff to Oran. He staggered back from the force of my first pulse but stayed upright, and a green glow came from the barrier surrounding my enemy. The pulses continued, and his protection collapsed in on him until some of the lightning reached his body.

  Then his ward vanished completely.

  My chest heaved, and I tried to catch my breath. I’d used up too much power in one spell. It felt like I was moving through wet cement, but I had no time to recover. I staggered toward him and hit him with both fists, using the techniques Don had taught me.

  Oran kicked back at me. He must’ve studied karate, too.

  I hit him with a roundhouse kick in the side, but I still hadn’t caught my breath. I was too tired to hit with full force.

  His right hook caught me on my cheek, snapping my head back and filling it with bursts of light. For a few seconds, I staggered around but didn’t fall.

  Attack!

  I picked one target, his nose, and pounded it several times, putting all the strength I c
ould muster into each blow, but before I could knock him out, he formed a shield. He reeled for a few seconds, then pointed his weapon. Although he was dazed, the bastard hit me with a searing stunning spell.

  It knocked me down. Agonizing spasms of energy shot through me, like I was being sliced to the bone. Every nerve exploded.

  Almost instantly, though, the pain lessened. Clearly, Samuel and Gill knew a thing or two about magic. A couple of people behind me gasped or groaned. I didn’t look back for fear that Oran would figure out how my team was helping me.

  I stood tall, the pain now only a memory.

  Oran’s jaw dropped, and he screamed something in a guttural language. He seemed to have thought he could end the fight with that one spell.

  His arrogance got me riled. I used my fury and stunned him back. “HOLARTHON, ELBO ASSOMME!”

  He screamed in agony.

  At least I’d shown him I wasn’t a quitter.

  His eyes bulged, and he remained frozen. I ran at him, but I hit an invisible wall. The son of a bitch had managed to create his ward again. I’d used most of my power already, so I couldn’t break through. Instead, I raised my own barrier.

  Just in time, too. Oran hit me with a stun that decimated my protection in a loud bang. My ward took the brunt of the attack, but his power was still incredible. Stinging tendrils of energy laced through me. I collapsed onto the dead grass and vomited.

  I glanced around, looking for somewhere to hide, but no luck. This meadow was flat and featureless.

  Within seconds, though, my suffering eased. I sent a quick prayer to Wakonda and the Mórrígan, asking them to strengthen my helpers.

  Sweat beaded on my forehead, despite the cold. I stood up to focus once again on my enemy.

  He screamed at me, “You can’t keep surviving. No man could!”

  I tried to keep my voice even. “You can’t understand my magic. It’s beyond your ken.”

  He ranted, but he also seemed to have used up all his anger for the moment. I needed to keep him confused.

  Then I remembered another of Samuel’s spells. Wakonda! I prayed, and a fireball the size of a soccer ball flew at Oran and covered his head.