by Ben Reeder
As the stars drifted overhead, I felt the first tears slide down the sides of my face. Ryker and Lucinda were in good hands, and some of the damage I’d done was being mended. Every spell I’d ever cast for my father and Dulka was undone, every person I’d enslaved for them was free. And Dulka was back in Hell, which meant even my father had a shot at redemption. I’d made a promise the night my mom brought me home, to make things right. Over the past couple of days, I’d started to make good on those promises.
Now, to face the threat of Mammon, there was me, a sixteen-year-old apprentice, ready to stand in the way of his return. Because someone thought that was a good idea. But in spite of the long odds, I still felt like I had a shot at stopping him. For the first time in a long time, I had hope.
As the stars began to fade in the east, we got up and headed for our vehicles.
“Get them home safe,” I told Shade as Wanda and Lucas climbed into her silver Mustang.
“You want a ride back to your car?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I need to leave the same way I came in,” I said. I leaned forward and kissed her, then rubbed my cheek against hers. “I’ve loved you since forever,” I whispered in her ear. “And I don’t plan on stopping…ever.” She smiled as she pulled back and touched my cheek.
“I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that,” she said before she gave me a quick kiss and got in her car. I watched her car pull away, then started the long trek to my own car. The sky was gray by the time I reached it, and I saw the red blinking light on my phone that meant I’d missed a call. A familiar number showed on the screen when I slid it open, and I hit the call button as I turned the key in the Mustang’s ignition.
“Hey, everything’s cool,” I said as soon as the call picked up on the other end. “Come by my house to get your stuff.”
Three hours later, I pulled into the driveway at home. Dee was a limp, blanket covered bundle in my back seat. I got out and opened the trunk to retrieve the Maxilla, then leaned into the back to pull my little sister to me. Briefly, I wondered what our neighbors might think, assuming any of them were home to see. I pushed the door closed and allowed myself a smile at what I must look like, a teenage boy carrying a limp girl into the house with a big ass sword strapped across his back.
I laid Dee down on the couch as gently as I could, and winced as I heard a motorcycle engine and a throaty V8 out front. Dee stirred for a moment, then quieted when I told her everything was okay. Once I was fairly sure she was asleep, I headed for the door and yanked it open. Six feet of Nazirite stood on the other side, his right hand drawn back like he was about to start pounding on my door. In the four months or so that I’d known Steve Donovan, he had never once come anywhere close to being subtle or quiet. Now was no exception. Frustrated in his attempt to pound my door into submission, he smiled and opened his mouth to speak. My right hand came up and I covered his mouth, then put the forefinger of my left hand over my lips and pushed him back.
Even though he was as strong as Samson, he offered me no resistance as I pushed him off the miniscule front porch and onto the sidewalk that led to our door. Over his shoulder, I could see T-Bone, chuckling as he leaned against his blue Torino.
“Mm-mm rffmmhrrr,” Steve said into my palm.
“Yeah, it’s good to see you, too,” I said, even though I had no idea what he’d actually been trying to say. “My sister’s asleep, so use your inside voice. No, wait, that’s still too loud. Use my inside voice.” I pulled my hand away.
“But if I use your inside voice, what are you going to use?” he asked, actually pitching his voice soft enough that I wasn’t afraid he’d wake anyone up.
“Interpretive dance,” I said as I unslung the Maxilla. I heard footsteps on the grass as T-Bone came up.
“We were just about shittin’ bricks when that thing up and disappeared,” the gun-wielding Hand of Death said after we exchanged greetings.
“How’d you end up with it?” Donovan asked.
“I’m still connected to it,” I said. “Dulka used that connection to summon it.”
“Makes sense,” T-Bone said. “Anything happens to Wonder Boy here, you take over as its guardian again ‘til you find the next Wielder.”
“Yeah, about that,” I said. “Seems like we didn’t exactly save the day as much as we thought when we killed Etienne. Even though we disrupted the spell, there was already some damage done. The bonds on Mammon’s prison are breaking.”
“That’s some serious shit,” T-Bone said as Steve frowned at me in confusion. “How long before they go completely?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Dr. Corwyn figures that if they’re left alone, it could be decades, maybe even a century or two. I’m not giving good odds on that, though.”
“Does the Council know about this?”
“They will.”
T-Bone nodded and turned back to Steve. “Come on, kid,” he said as he headed back to his car. “We got us a lot of work to do.” Steve and I clasped hands before he turned and went back to his motorcycle, then both vehicles were pulling away, headed back to the secluded farm where Steve was being trained by the Hands of Death.
I sat down on the front step, suddenly feeling a little lighter. The Maxilla was back in the right hands, and the right people knew what they needed to. Behind me, I heard Junkyard paw the screen door open, and a moment later, he was sitting beside me. He looked at me with big, puppy eyes, and I put my arm across his shoulders and rubbed at the place behind his ear that he liked. I scratched at an itch on my shoulder as I waited for Dr. C to bring Mom home and tried to enjoy the calm moment. There would be a lot of hugging and excitement soon enough, but for now, I could sit and be still. My eyes closed on their own, and I saw the image that had been taunting my memory. Black wings, and a circle. It meant something, but I couldn’t make sense of it, or of the words rattling around at the edge of my thoughts.
The sound of Dr. Corwin’s Range Rover pulling into the driveway pulled me out of the quiet space I’d built in my head. Junkyard barked a greeting, and a moment later, I heard Dee’s happy squeal. She came barreling out the front door as Mom got out of the truck, and wrapped her in a flying hug.
The moment of calm was gone, the image so much mental static in my head. Maybe I didn’t get a summer vacation. Hell, I barely got two minutes to myself. Then again, I was an Apprentice Mage. It was pretty much a given that things weren’t going to be easy. I wrapped Mom in a hug of my own and let those problems wait. For now, this was enough.
For now, I could ignore the thunder on the horizon. But I couldn’t forget; there was a storm coming and there was no getting out of its way.
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Chance’s world. This book came as something of a surprise to me, since I had opriginally only planned on having entries for the fall and spring semesters of each year. But then, a couple of summers ago while I was in San Angelo, I found myself wondering about Chance’s summer. Of course, he can’t have a boring summer! At least, not this summer. So, Vision Quest was born of a conglomeration of ideas.
Of course, a lot happened in this story, and we’ll be seeing the repercussions from this one for some time to come.
As always, I welcome your opinions in the form of reviews, so please, let me know where I can improve! I don’t take reviews personally, and I always look for patterns of concerns. I always appreciate your feedback. Also, if you want to make sure you are always notified of any new releases, you can follow my author page on Amazon.
And, the best for last, thank you for reading Chance’s latest adventure. I wouldn’t be able to keep writing without you, so I want you, dear reader, to know how much I appreciate your support as an independent author. My readers are my heroes.
Stay awesome, and check the next pages for more great books from my fellow authors at Irrational Worlds!
Ben Reeder
September, 2015
Wake Up Call by EM Ervin
Jo
is your average, everyday seventeen year old girl.
Wait, no she's not. Not by a longshot.
She is a girl with a secret. Possessed of powers no one would believe even if they knew that she had them. The ability to create illusions at thought is a dangerous weapon in the most responsible of hands, and Jo's aren't exactly squeaky clean.
Ever the trouble magnet, Jo is accustomed to finding more than her fair share of problems - most of which she brings on herself. The rebellious daughter of a senator and a diplomat, she has a rap sheet and has been kicked out of nearly every prestigious private school on the Eastern Seaboard.
This time, she's vowed to make an actual effort. Not to fit in - that'd be impossible - but to just not get kicked out.
Of course, this would be the school that turns out to be the favorite hunting grounds of a homicidal ghost.
What could possibly happen?
On The Matter Of The Red Hand by JM Guillen
In the distant world of Cæstre, a city teeters on the edge of tainted oblivion.
Thom never quite got accustomed to the visions that came like molten gold in his blood- but then the visions were just part of the job. As a Judicar, his oaths to the city bring him nothing but problems, but this time it's a problem that may get him killed.
Or worse.
Thom's alchemical visions lead him to the door of a madman- Santiago Il Ladren. Santiago is a monster, rumored to have his enemies creatively tortured to death- that is, the ones that don't simply vanish.
It is possible that Santiago will have Thom skinned alive, just for asking the wrong questions.
Soon, the mystery takes a sharp turn. Thom is lost in a labyrinth of misty streets and knife wielding thugs, looking to leave him all too dead. There is a missing girl- and it happens that Santiago is her brother. Thom stumbles through dark alleyways and only finds more mysteries, and beatings from unknown men.
Then things take a darker turn.
Soon it becomes obvious that someone is dealing with secrets that are forbidden and depraved. Every step Thom takes is another down a twisted road that leads to forgotten alchemies and experiments in horror, hidden in plain sight. Finally, lost within strange shadows, Thom is confronted with stark, horrifying truths that he never wanted to face.
Unfortunately, Thom may have learned these truths a touch too late.
The Herald of Autumn by JM Guillen
There are things unseen in the world of men, strange things that live in the secret cracks between places.
Fortunately for the children of men, there is one who protects us from the darkness that we cannot see.
Every year, with the death of summer, Tommy Maple, the Herald of Autumn, awakens to again wander the land. Wherever he goes, red and golden leaves follow him, and he hunts the twisted creatures in the darkness.
This Autumn, however, is different from those in the past.
Tommy awakens to the taunting of a mysterious and elusive worker-of-wonders. Soon, a sinister tale unfolds- a story made from the whispering of forgotten legends that ends with a dark revelation.
A story that Tommy has always been part of, even though he didn't know it.
Far from the eyes of men is an ancient abomination, hidden from even from the Facility. As ever, Tommy pokes where he should not, and soon the hunter is the one that is hunted, chased through a misbegotten wood by a creature who seems to be little more than darkness and feckless hunger.
The behemoth is pure horror, and can unmake everything Tommy is.
As the Herald faces a foe unlike any other, will he fall to the darkness that haunts our world? Will the shadows of a lost age devour him, causing him to be reborn as one of the world's sorrows? Or can he trust the wonder-worker, a creature spun from little more than trickery, malevolence and deceit?
Coming soon:
Aberrant Vectors (Dossiers of Asset 108) by JM Guillen
November 17,1999
San Francisco, California
Few things are worse than a system undergoing a cold boot...
Michael Bishop is an Asset of the Facility, but tonight is his night off. His expectation is to have a few drinks with his friend Wyatt Guthrie, perhaps go out and have a night on the town.
But the Facility has made other arrangements.
Before he realizes what has happened, Asset 108 has been dispatched to a carnage-filled interior location, lit only with flickering and lurid light. As Michael drifts through the shadows, encountering stuttering and broken Facility technology, he attempts to figure out why he has been dispatched here and what his mission is.
Yet before he can, he is fighting for his life.
Soon, with his personal gear malfunctioning, Bishop is standing against foes familiar to him, foes that have been transformed into inhuman abominations. With time running out, he finds his way to his cadre, and they fight their way to the depths of the mysterious Spire. There, they discover remnants of a lost, broken, carnage-filled world.
As Michael and his cadre stands against the inhabitants of an entire world of bloody ruin, he is forced to face a painful truth.
It is possible that this dossier will be his last...
