by Garon Whited
Then I activate the rest of the nexuses. They start doing the same thing as the first one, but with so many of them, it’s effectively a rapid-fire sequence. Some of them, of course, will hit a lot harder.
Or, to slip into a metaphor, if I fire some bullets into a house from my pistol, I’ll really annoy the resident. When he opens a window or fires back, I’ll know where he is. That’s when I shift to the belt-fed machine gun and really let him have it.
These ongoing magic-disrupting pulses should utterly ruin anything magical within hundreds of miles. I’m sure Firebrand and Bronze will survive, being so far out to sea, but I’m certainly not bringing them into the place with me. In the heart of a massive, repeated, ongoing magic-blasting onslaught is no place for beings held together by magic. It’s not really a place for anything sensitive to magical emanations at all.
I’m not sure how I’m going to feel, either. It could be… unpleasant. For all I know, it could kill me. But I’m not going to risk anyone else. This is my revenge, and I’m taking it.
I’m bringing my spare sword, though; it’s merely enchanted, not my friend. When the EMP-like anti-magic bursts destroy the enchantment, it’s still a sharp chunk of metal. I plan to take the flying helicopter thing on the forward deck, go as fast as it will fly, and land on top of an enraged and frustrated Johann.
What’s he going to do? Cast a spell at me? If he has a gun lying around handy—but why should he? —he might shoot me down, but people have shot guns at me before. It doesn’t end well.
I’d be more concerned about what Mary, Bronze, and Firebrand are going to think, but I can’t think that far ahead anymore. All I can think about is Johann.
Friday, February 19th
First thing in the morning, the crew cleared the decks and I double-checked the skycycle. I had my armored underwear on, my anti-detection spells, my secondary sword, a combat knife, a nine-millimeter automatic, a lighter, and a parachute. I brought my skinphone, but decided against my Diogo-phone. The micro-gate ring inside it isn’t enchanted, but it would be a shame to get it damaged before I could get any real use out of it. I also left my various forms of identification behind. The last thing I needed was a fake ID during my premeditated murder.
I went down into the hold to put everything in a saddlebag. It’s not that I don’t trust the crew, but I don’t. Not completely.
Bronze looked at me and told me she knew what I was doing, snorting irritated smoke as she did so.
“I expect you do,” I admitted. “I’m sorry. You can’t come with me. It’ll kill you before you reach the nexus, I know it will.”
She agreed, and pointed out I should have had this conversation long ago. She emphasized it with a stomp that silently dented the deck.
“You’re right, I should have, and I apologize. I’ve been afraid to have this talk. I’m afraid of a lot of things, most of all losing people. I’ve lost the Fabulous Four. I’ve lost Tort. I feel like I’ve lost everyone in Karvalen. I’m afraid of losing you.”
Obviously, I was unable to lose her. I’m stupid on that front, but she loves me anyway.
“So… you’re not angry about me going in like this?”
Of course she was angry about it, but it wasn’t directed at me. It was at the injustice of it all. She wouldn’t get to take her own bite out of Johann or stomp him herself. Travis never got to break Tobias’ kneecaps, either.
“I know, I know. I don’t keep my word. I’m a liar and a coward. I can’t seem to help it. And will you please calm down? Your eyes are starting to glow and there’s fuel down here.”
She was apologetic, but still annoyed. She promised not to take out her frustrations on me. But I owed her a place to run free for a while. This plan left her out of things completely, so I owed her a chance to really stretch her legs.
“I’ll find someplace,” I assured her. It pleased me greatly to have her assume I was coming back. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
Bronze thought it a stupid question. What did I do to deserve hands? Or a heart? We were us, simple, obvious, perfect.
If I were a more philosophical man, I’d wonder why I have a better relationship with my horse than with any woman I’ve ever known. A simpler relationship, anyway. Absolutes are always simple.
Firebrand still hung on the wall of the master suite’s bedroom. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell it anything. Then again, I knew I didn’t want to tell Mary what was going to happen.
She didn’t give me a choice. After I had them start prepping the skycycle, Mary cornered me in the bedroom and demanded to know what I thought I was doing.
“I know that thing won’t carry both of us,” she told me. “It’ll barely carry you. Which means you’re either going to send me somewhere on it, or you’re going somewhere without me. And you’re the one wearing the parachute. Now talk!”
Yep, I was in trouble.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“The problem is I’ve been far too understanding. You had a plan. Fine. I didn’t quiz you for the details, just the outline. You were working on it. Fine. You routinely descended to unreasonable depths to meddle with powers mortal man dares not touch. Fine. You’ve had a hard time in Karvalen, with Tort, with Johann, and in general. Fine. I’ve done my part, being helpful, kind, understanding, all of it. I’ve respected your silence—for the most part. I’ve given you emotional space around your issues. I’ve been the most understanding, tolerant, and patient girlfriend in the history of humanity—and it hasn’t been easy!
“Now we’re obviously closing in on Johann and you’re about to take off in a flying contraption without me!”
I’m okay with waiting here, Firebrand interjected. I wanted to feel relieved, but Mary was on a roll.
“You shut up!” Mary snapped. The dragon in the steel shut up. She swung her glare back to me, eyes blazing brightly enough to make me wonder if she’d spoken with Sparky at some point. “You’re about to leave,” she accused. “We’ve haven’t really talked about it, but I thought we had an understanding. You don’t leave me out of things. You don’t walk away and act like you don’t care. I’m involved in everything, because we do things together. When you try and pull a vanishing act, it pisses me off and makes me feel as though you don’t actually care about me. The bit with going to visit Lissette I could stand; I was your rescue force. My trip to get a yacht and prepare for whatever this is, I took it like a good soldier because you told me you needed me to. But now you’re about to fly off without me, and that tells me you don’t need me!
“Do you have any idea how it feels?” she demanded, tears starting down her face. “I need you in my life, and you’re pushing me away! Your actions and attitude are telling me I’m not part of this—that I’m on my own. And I don’t want to lose you!”
I sat down on the couch and put my head in my hands. Mary remained standing, watching me and wiping her face while I marshaled my thoughts. I looked up at her and beckoned her over to the couch. She hesitated, but came over and sat down. I put my arms around her.
“You’re right,” I told her, “in telling me I was wrong. I didn’t… I didn’t really think of your feelings, of how this had to look to you. I’m sorry. I love you and I don’t ever want you to feel otherwise.”
Mary cried into my shirt.
“I’ve been… off, lately,” I continued. “This.. thing… has been a goal of mine, a personal goal, something intimate and singular. I’ve been trying to not think about it too much until I could do something about it. Now I’m doing something. Now my plan is almost complete. I’m so close I can taste it, and it’s taking all my focus to sit here, rather than sprinting for the skycycle and charging in to kill an evil wizard, because I really want to.”
I grimaced and hugged her harder.
“I don’t know how you can help, beyond all the fantastic efforts you’ve already made. You’ve made it possible by being my support, even if you don’t see it. That’s my fault. You don’t know the p
lan. You’ve just followed along, knowing I had one. Well, I should have told you, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I’ll correct it.
“Here’s my plan. I set off various and sundry spells to lure Johann to his nexus point. Once he’s there, I knock down the domes, fly in, and kill him. I’m too heavy for the thing to carry us both, as you pointed out, so I go alone.
“The spells are magical disruption spells. Powerful ones. They’ll hammer the crap out of anything Johann tries to do after they knock down the domes. They should destroy even enchanted objects, like golem horses or intelligent weapons.”
Which is why I’m okay with hanging out on a boat, Firebrand added. I’m on your side, Boss, but I’m not stupid.
“Are you sure this will work?” Mary asked, squeezing me harder. “You’ve tapped several nexuses, but you’re tackling him on his home ground. The spells you’ve worked are hundreds or thousands of miles away.”
“True, but… remember my lecture on the inverse-square law and how to get around it?”
“No.”
I sighed. This is what happens when you don’t give homework and exams.
“Magical spells can work in two main ways. The first way can generate an effect which then travels to the target. I can use a spell to generate electricity and guide it, but the lightning bolt will make an arc from my hand to the target. This is the way most spells work when you’re laying hands on your subject to work on it.
“The second way is to target the spell at a point. Picture a magical line extending from your hand to a target point. The spell slides along the line to the place you want it. This is like firing a missile at the target; the explosion happens far away.”
“What about gates following scrying portals?”
“Are we having a fight or a lesson in magic?”
“I’m trying not to have a fight!”
“Okay, okay. Gates and scrying portals are both in the second category. By establishing a connection with the scrying portal, you have something for the gate to follow. Imagine stringing a cable across a canyon. Once you have that, it’s a lot easier to build an actual suspension bridge—you can run lots of cables back and forth once you have the first one, rather than climb down, drag the cable across, and climb up again.”
“If you say so. So, your spells are going to be as effective as Johann’s?”
“At least. And I have more of them, more power, and an automated system of magical disruption pummeling.”
“What about his kids?”
“The other nexus points are in range. I’ve got enough minor nexuses to keep them busy, with occasional swats from a major one. Johann is getting the big ones, once I sucker him into position with the one off the coast of Portugal.” Mary sat up as I spoke and wiped at her face with one hand. The other kept a grip on mine.
“I was also asking about what you intend to do about them.”
“Kill them.”
“What, all of them?”
“I’m going to kill Johann surely, and slowly if I can manage it. Then I’ll turn my attention to killing his conspirators or collaborators or partners—I don’t care if they’re his grown children or grandchildren, hired grunts, or personal unicorns. They’re all going to die, and if that ends his family line, then so be it. That’s the whole reason I’m here. It’s what I came for.”
“I see.”
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“Hell, no!” she declared, surprised. “Are you kidding me? If I’d known, I’d have bought a knife for each of them. But why, by all that is dark and gruesome, did we not simply buy two of the flying motorcycles? Couldn’t I go hunting for the kids while you distract everyone with Johann? Or don’t you trust me to be a competent assassin?”
I didn’t want to tell her how much I wanted to rip them apart with my hands. Then again, the one I really wanted was Johann. Could I give her his coven-mates? Or did I need to kill them all personally? Did I need to kill them all? Killing Johann, yes… Killing the rest, yes… but did it matter to me how the others died? If it did matter—if I did have to do it myself—was that appropriate, or overdoing it? What was just the right amount of revenge?
Fortunately, I had a much better answer on tap, and it was also the truth.
“The answer is painfully obvious, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Not to me!”
“Because I’m a moron and didn’t think of it.”
“Oh,” she replied, subsiding. “Hmm. I can see that, I guess.”
“Look, never think I’d leave you out deliberately. If I’d thought to bring a spare skycycle, we would have. It didn’t even occur to me until you mentioned it.”
“See why it’s important to discuss these things?”
“I’m not sure if I should threaten to spank you or ask you to not needle me about it,” I admitted. “I’m having a hard time dealing with this.”
“Yes, you are,” she agreed, “and so am I. Tell you what… we can order another skycycle and it’ll be ready to pick up before we get there.”
“No,” I snapped. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because everything is in place! All the spells, all the nexuses, everything. I’m ready to go and I can’t wait any longer! I need to do this!”
“All right,” Mary agreed, suddenly calm. I didn’t trust that calm. “You need to do this. Fine.” She gripped her forehead with one hand, fingertips pressing into her temples. “Do you have any objection to me helping, provided I can find a way?”
“No. I might need the help,” I admitted. “The only two who absolutely cannot come with me are Firebrand and Bronze. The environment I’m creating should cripple Johann, but it will kill them. It might not be so good for any magical creature, either, including undead, but I don’t think it will be lethal.”
“Then, can you wait just a little longer? Long enough to detour and drop me off on the continent? Give me the GPS locations of the nexus points and turn me loose! By the time the Princess gets to your starting point, I’ll have figured out my own transport. Is that fair? —no, wrong question. Can you hold on to your patience long enough do that much for me? Can you be a rock of calm for one day more? One day, for me, as a favor?”
I took a moment and took stock of my feelings. I was this close to launching myself like a cruise missile. But… Mary was asking for a favor. Could I give it to her?
“Yes,” I agreed, hoping I wasn’t lying. “I can do that. But I’m going to be hard to live with between now and then. I know it, and I’ll try not to be, but I know the murderous rage inside is going to fray my good intentions. There’s a monster, it wants loose, and it’s me.”
“I’ll warn the Captain.”
New Bedford, Massachusetts, was the closest un-domed port of call on the continent. It was only about a hundred and thirty miles away from a dome—one edge cut through Fall River almost along the line of Underwood Street—so we steamed off for it at top speed. New Bedford was still a hotbed of military activity. It was far enough away to accept civilian traffic, fortunately, but an awful lot of troops and equipment were parked there, ready to respond to anything from the shimmering, soap-bubble distortion.
Mary didn’t even say goodbye. She was already dressed and ready to go when the Princess pulled up alongside a pier. She kissed me, sprang off the ship, sprinted to a waiting Google Cab, and sped away.
Captain Tillard assured me we would be back to my launch point as quickly as possible.
“Forget speed,” I told him. “I need to be ready to launch right before sunset, and we’re not going to make it back in time. It’ll have to be tomorrow.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll see to it. Is there anything else you need?”
“To be left strictly alone.”
“I’ll pass the word.”
I went below, laid down on the lowest deck, and waited for sunset. Tendrils like a hungry net killed everything in our path on the way back. Firebrand cleared its psychic throat.
<
br /> “What do you want?”
I didn’t want to say it while she was upset, but I’m with Mary, Boss.
“In what way?”
I think it’s cheesy of you to set up a wizard-killing I can’t go to.
“Oh. I’m terribly sorry,” I told it, drenching it in sarcasm. “May I inquire about your plan?”
My plan?
“Yes, your plan. The one to kill the demigod wizard without getting me turned into a newt and you into an ornamental hat pin for giants. That plan.”
I don’t actually have a plan, Firebrand admitted. I just don’t like yours.
“Fair enough. Think up a better one while I meditate before battle.”
Spoilsport.
“Shut. Up.”
I stepped into my headspace.
Firebrand followed me into my mental study, resting on my desk. I used to have a fireplace… whatever happened to it? Something the Demon King did, maybe?
I concentrated for a moment. Instead of a fireplace, I put a sword-rack on the wall above the couch. Firebrand vanished from the desk and reappeared on the rack.
Thanks, Boss. Makes me feel welcome.
“You are. I’m just…”
Annoyed? Grouchy? Grumpy? Angry?
“Yes.”
The hatchway to my undermind sounded with four rapid knocks. It didn’t buck or rattle. Whatever wanted out was knocking politely.
“Well, that’s a first,” I muttered.
No kidding, Firebrand agreed, suspiciously.
“Any idea what it is?”
Sorry, Boss. I don’t do the deep stuff, just the upper portions of thinking.
“Thought I’d ask.” I took Firebrand down from its rack and looked at the hatchway. Without the Demon King to reinforce my own insecurities, cruelties, and darker nature, I might be able to handle anything squeezing itself through the opening. It’s one thing to have every horrible memory of your life dropped on you at once, but quite another to tackle them one at a time.
