Sanctuary: The Sorcerers' Scourge: Book Two

by Michael Arches

  It burned for a few seconds, and he screamed through the flames. When the fire disappeared, it had taken all of Oran’s long, wavy black hair with it. Even his eyebrows had vanished. He was as bald as a man could be. Somehow, he didn’t seem as intimidating anymore.

  For the first time this morning, hope stirred inside me. His red-skinned head and bleary eyes told me he was vulnerable. Although I’d never beat him in a pure magical slugfest, I might be able to keep him off-balance with strange magic, so I tried one of the spells Gill had taught me to temporarily blind an attacker.

  “HOLARTHON, ELBO ÉBLOUIT!”

  White foam surrounded him. He reached out with his hands, flailing in search of something, probably me.

  “If you want true friends,” I said in a low voice, “come to us. We actually savor life, and we share good times with each other. No witch has ever stabbed me in the back. You deserve that peace of mind, too.”

  He continued to stumble around. “I don’t need friends!”

  All sorcerers seemed to think that way. That thought inspired me. “Listen—ask yourself how many people were willing to stand beside you today. You saw the faces of the people behind me. Each of them is here to support me.”

  Oran’s shoulders drooped. There were probably only a few people who would suffer in any way for him, all probably family. He bent over and staggered as though I’d hit him in the stomach.

  Then he glared at me. “I won’t submit to a weakling like you!”

  I couldn’t come up with the right words to convince him. Even Gill had failed to persuade him.

  Oran pointed his shillelagh at me before I had time to reform my protective ward.

  Searing pain hit me in the chest, agony like nothing I’d ever known. I began thrashing, flailing, and coughing up blood. I couldn’t even think.

  Stop the hurting.

  Thank the gods so many other witches had my back. Within seconds, the raw, searing pain vanished. I regained some of my ability to move, and I caught myself as I sank to my knees.

  The joy in Oran’s eyes at making me suffer turned to a scream of frustration.

  I needed to hit him hard before he was ready for me to react. I pointed my staff at him and yelled, “HOLARTHON, ELBO CHOQUE!”

  I hadn’t realized how furious I was at him for threatening everyone. The power of my white lightning staggered me backward.

  He dropped to the ground, trembling and moaning. The strike wasn’t enough to finish him, but this was how it had to end—him down and me standing.

  How could I keep him off-balance? I couldn’t survive another spell like the last one he’d cast, even with everyone’s help. I’d almost passed out, and if I lost consciousness for even a few seconds, I’d lose. My arms were too weak to use my staff effectively. What about Washta?

  He’d saved me last time, but he was too far away.

  Then I remembered Lazarus. He’d been circling high above us the whole time. I couldn’t use him to directly attack; magic wouldn’t let him strike Oran. But the eagle could give the sorcerer quite a surprise.

  I renewed my mental contact with him, and I visualized him dive-bombing Oran from the southeast, hidden in the rising sun.

  I didn’t look up for fear of warning Oran about the bird’s movements, but I could see the ground though his eyes and feel the air blasting past his folded wings as he dropped like a stone.

  Oran moved toward me, oblivious to what was behind him, but I heard yelling from his supporters.

  Too late.

  When Lazarus came close, I mentally asked him to scream. He did, and the piercing screech was so loud, it echoed off the foothills.

  Oran twisted suddenly, looked behind and up.

  The bird rocketed in at his maximum speed, two hundred miles an hour. He flew so quickly that it was hard to see anything but a dark brown blur. At the last second, I pulled up and rushed at Oran with claws extended. His screams continued.

  Oran roared with anger, and I realized too late that I’d not only surprised him, I’d pissed him off.

  My mistake. All of my fighting power was now gone. Lazarus had been my hole card.

  I thought of Carter Pass one more time—that magic still worked—but the ward wasn’t strong.

  What else is there?

  I recalled Gill’s favorite protective spell—the mirror ward. If Oran was furious enough, he might end up blasting himself. I concentrated on the spell and prayed to the Mórrígan.

  Greatest of all fighting goddesses, I need you more than ever. Holarthon, réfléchit.

  Oran pointed his shillelagh at me and sent a pulse of ball lightning my way. I braced for the impact, but it never came. The pulse ricocheted back to him and caught him completely by surprise.

  The lightning crackled as it surrounded his head, which was already red from my fireball. The sorcerer’s eyes bulged, and his entire body froze. He toppled over and twitched a couple of times before he stopped moving.

  The buzzing stopped.

  Chapter 20

  FOR A FEW SECONDS, I couldn’t believe I’d won. All the ups and downs of our battle were so fresh. The fight seemed to have lasted forever. I also hadn’t expected Oran to be so damned determined. The truth of it was, he’d destroyed himself.

  I sat down in the meadow. I could sense wildlife again, surrounding me underground and hiding in the dead foliage. Lazarus dropped onto the grass next to me, and I stroked his dark brown feathers. Without his help, I probably wouldn’t have overcome Oran, even though Gill’s mirror ward had finished him off.

  Escobar glared at me from across the field. Then he and the other sorcerers strode toward their cars.

  Oran began to move. His eyes opened, and I could see that all his defiance was gone.

  “How may I serve you, Master?”

  “Just shut up and sit still. I’ve had enough of you for a while.”

  I looked over at my supporters. They were standing together, still holding hands, and I waved them forward. They sat in a circle around me and Oran, holding hands and remaining silent.

  Only Washta approached me. I petted him and relaxed for the first time in a long while as he licked my face.

  Wondering what to do next, I looked at Samuel, Diana, and Gill.

  “Take all his power,” Diana said.

  Gill nodded. “He’s squandered it. I’m sure you’ll put it to better use and actually help others.”

  I turned to Oran. “I claim the spoils of victory.”

  He gave me a blank and distant gaze as his magic poured into me. He’d been so strong that as the power flowed, it seemed to burn my insides. Eventually, a huge sense of euphoria filled me.

  “D-do you have any slaves?” I asked him.

  “No, Master.”

  “What should we do with him?” I asked the three great witches who’d helped me so much.

  “Let’s defer that for now,” Samuel said. “Brigid’s council can meet and give you a recommendation. He belongs to you, of course, not any of us.”

  In the past, I’d never liked holding slaves, so I’d given them to the clan to work off their sins. In this case, I was unsure what to do. Zack wouldn’t want his nephew working at the ranch.

  “We need to figure out a lot of things,” Tess said. “Better to take our time.”

  That made sense.

  I smiled, stood, and took Laura’s hands to help her up. Then we hugged and kissed. It was such a relief to hold her, knowing she and Christina were safe. Tears had dried on her cheeks, so I knew she’d suffered through the ordeal as much as I had, maybe more. God, how I loved her.

  Everyone but Oran crowded around me, full of smiles and laughter. Folks lavished praise on me, and I could see how this kind of hero worship might give a fighter a fat head. Shortly after I’d first met Tess and Laura, they’d warned me about becoming arrogant. Now I understood the danger much better. I kept reminding everyone that all my success had depended on the help I�
�d received from so many great witches—and one particular old medicine man.

  -o-o-o-

  Brigid’s Community Ranch, Boulder County, Colorado

  WE GOT BACK TO the ranch by mid-morning, and the party started right away. Folks celebrated like there was no tomorrow, which told me they had been worried to death. I couldn’t blame them for that. The odds had clearly been against us, but the gods had indeed worked in mysterious ways.

  Throughout the celebration, Laura held my hand. If I’d lost the fight, she was the person I would’ve missed the most. Her lovely smile was particularly sweet now, which gave me an idea.

  “What if we handfasted right away?” I suggested.

  She laughed. “I’d love that. And tonight is when the Warrior’s Kiss could create a super baby. Let’s make it happen tonight.”

  We pulled Diana aside and told her our plan for handfasting.

  “Fine,” she replied. “I suppose that was inevitable from the beginning. When would you like your ceremony?”

  “Now,” we said together.

  She shook her head. “None of us is dressed for such a glorious occasion. We can do it in an hour, though.”

  Laura and I agreed.

  Diana clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Important announcement. Ian and Laura will celebrate their handfasting in an hour. We’ve little time to prepare.”

  But she pulled it off. The lounge area was decorated with white bunting and lace, and a large circle was cleared near the fountain for the old pagan ceremony.

  Tess had helped Laura get ready. She looked radiant in a flowing white dress that someone must’ve conjured out of thin air. Christina was wearing a matching dress and couldn’t stop laughing.

  Tess had woven flowers in Laura’s and Christina’s hair, but those had to be magical, too. We hadn’t given anyone enough time to drive to a florist in town and return.

  I was wearing my only suit. Grandpa and Francis attended as the representatives of my family, and they were the first to kiss the new bride after me.

  This was the happiest moment of my life. Even if our marriage would last only for a year and a day, we could always renew our vows…“as long as we both shall live.” And I was sure that we would.

  -o-o-o-

  THE RECEPTION DIDN’T WIND down until the late afternoon. Diana then convened a council meeting to consider how to handle my newest slave.

  The room was packed. Laura and I sat together at a table in front of the long bench. Oran and Gill sat by themselves at the other table between the bench and the gallery.

  For all intents and purposes, Oran was on trial, and Gill seemed to have appointed himself as the defendant’s lawyer, which was fine. He was saving me the burden of speaking up for the jackass who’d done his best to enslave me.

  Diana began by reading a long summary of Oran’s nastiness since the day we’d first met him in mid-October at the mayor’s house. After she’d finished, she asked, “Is that a fair summary?”

  Oran looked to me as though he wasn’t sure what to say.

  “Tell the truth,” I replied to his unspoken question.

  “Yes. I’m very sorry to admit it’s accurate,” Oran said. The power of magical slavery was so great that it forced him to act contrite.

  Crystal asked, “Did you plot with Hudson to lure Ian into that trap where Hudson blew himself up?”

  “I had no prior knowledge of his plan,” Oran said. “And I didn’t help him carry it out.”

  “Does anyone wish to speak in Oran’s defense?” Diana asked.

  Gill gave a friendly wave. She nodded.

  “I’ve shared his thoughts,” Gill said. “Although Oran’s heart is hardly pure, it’s not as black as coal, either. I’d say it’s that dreary shade of gray we see too often in weaklings. I could see him working effectively as a counsellor and advocate for troubled teens or the elderly. So I would recommend against sentencing him to a term of manual labor here.”

  “Before we get to his punishment,” Katie said, “what can you tell us about good deeds he’s performed in the past?”

  “Not a heck of a lot to talk about,” Gill said. “He’s pretty selfish overall, but he did initially refuse to act as the sorcerers’ champion for the challenge. It was only after he and his family were threatened that he agreed to do what he would’ve been forced to do anyway.”

  I thought he’d summed it up well, so I stood. “Gill has it right. Because Oran’s so self-centered, he should be forced to help others. I’ll leave it to the council to decide his particular fate.”

  As usual, the council considered their decision in public. After hearing a handful of comments from the gallery about how Oran should’ve put our legitimate interest in living in peace ahead of his own selfish desires, Diana said, “Here is what I propose. Oran is worth over two million dollars. I recommend to Ian that one million be split between Ian and the clan to compensate us for the worry Oran forced us to endure. Ninety-nine percent of the rest should be given to charitable groups approved by Ian. Finally, Oran should spend five years as a slave to Gill to help him in his golden years.”

  I checked with Laura, and she nodded.

  “We agree,” I said. “If Gill wants to accept Oran.”

  The old warrior stood. “Sure. I’ll whip him into shape, just like I fixed up my latest disciple.” He grinned at me before continuing. “I thank the council for its wisdom, and I thank Ian for my new flunky.”

  Personally, I was happy to see Gill get some benefit from the jerk’s obvious talents. At least Gill could read his mind to make sure he wasn’t faking rehabilitation.

  Diana pounded her gavel. “Let it be so.”

  After the meeting, I pulled Gill aside and asked, “Are you sure you want this responsibility?”

  “He can help Julienne, who’s getting on in years. And if he doesn’t grow spiritually, I’ll ship him back.”

  I patted Gill on the arm. “Works for me. You can tell him that if you do send him back, I’ll assign him to work in a homeless shelter in Denver’s worst neighborhood.”

  Gill cackled. “Good idea. Polishing my medals will sound easy by comparison.”

  “Also,” I reminded him, “don’t forget that you’re always welcome to move to the ranch. It’s safer than Brittany.”

  “But that’s my home. I know a lot of ghosts there.”

  Having lost my farm and part of my family, I understood the value of home. “You’ll visit, though? Or I’ll come and visit you.”

  “You’re welcome any time,” he assured me.

  After Gill had left, Laura sat down next to me in the council room gallery, which was now almost empty, and kissed my cheek. “You gave me three or four heart attacks this morning. Actually, I lost count. I was terrified at the end that I was about to lose my best friend to a terrible future.”

  I snorted. “I had it in the bag from the beginning.”

  She burst out laughing at me and hugged me. “You keep thinking that, Farm Boy, if it gives you comfort. And I’d start thinking hard about hanging up your spurs before you face someone too strong to beat. Your grandpa can get rid of Escobar the same way he punished Cantor. You can’t do any more than that.”

  She was right, but I needed vengeance. It was personal and primal. The time was coming soon when I could beat him, and I couldn’t rest until he was in the ground.

  ~Finis~

  Thank you so much for reading the second book in The Sorcerers’ Scourge urban fantasy series. For the latest book news about this series, join my email list here. No spam.

  Ian’s adventures continue. Turn the page to read first chapter of the third book in the series, Vengeance. This book is now available for preorder in the Kindle Store here, and it will be published on March 15th.

  Book 3 Excerpt—Vengeance

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  The rest of this story, Vengeance, is available for preorder now in the Kindle Store her
e and will be published on March 15th.

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