B00M0CSLAM EBOK

by Mason Elliott

  Jerriel and her staff caught a lot of attention, and not just because of her beauty. This was the first time many people in town were getting a good look at the Tharanorian wizard girl in person.

  New reports and updates continued to pour in to the town council, even before the meeting got started. More people filed in.

  David glanced at some of those reports as Dirk passed them around. A lot of the news wasn’t very good.

  Wait until Dirk told them all about the demon.

  48

  Mason opened his eyes, and the pain seemed to flood back into him all at once. It was like suddenly slamming into a solid wall that was somehow shaped like the inside of his body. He gasped, but couldn’t move much.

  That was probably a good thing, because the more he moved around, the more he ached. He continued to gasp, wince, grunt, and whine at the intensity of the agony ripping through him. Tears flowed from his eyes. Someone dabbed his face with a cool damp cloth.

  “Hold him down if he starts to thrash around, or if he tries to get out of bed,” Major Avery ordered the medical staff. “Hold his head back gently, then his arms by the wrists and shoulders, and his legs by the ankles and knees. Most likely, he’s in a lot of pain from all of his wounds. It’s a wonder he’s alive after he was hit so many times. We’ve given him some blood and fresh plasma from donors on hand, but we don’t want his injuries tearing open again.”

  There seemed to be several people working around him.

  He was in some kind of medical bed. Except for a thin hospital gown of some obnoxious, purple floral print–lilacs or some such–he was buck naked. Every part of his body seemed bandaged in some fashion, and he reeked like a hospital ward.

  Finally his vision cleared and he could hear properly without his head feeling as if it was under a bucket. “Avery,” he croaked. “Bill…water.”

  Avery nodded. “Give it to him in sips, like the doctor said. A little at a time. We don’t want him throwing up.”

  A tube or a straw came to his dry lips. Mason didn’t care which. He sealed his mouth around it and pulled. Cool water bathed his dry mouth and throat. He relaxed and pulled on the tube in sequence. Like a nursing baby he drank and closed his eyes, feeling the soothing relief slipping down his parched mouth and throat until he relaxed.

  He opened his eyes again and looked up at Major Avery. “Bill, I figured we were all dead when I went down. What the hell happened? How did we get away?”

  Bill Avery smiled down at him and rested a strong hand softly on Mason’s right hand. “We didn’t expect it, either, but just as the enemy committed all of its reserves, spotters saw thousands of militia sweeping in out of the dark to flank the enemy and hem them in from the rear.”

  Mason’s mouth fell open. “Where in the hell did they–”

  Avery grinned. “Mishawaka finally got off their asses and had the gumption to move in and try to help us. They voted to do so just a few hours before, and put their people on the move.”

  “Well, damn–dip me in mustard like a corndog!” Mason said, quickly regretting his sudden excitement.

  Hands pushed him back gasping onto his bed once more. Mason made out five medical corps people hovering around him, not seven. Two men and three women, all wearing the red cross on their arms. He didn’t know any of them by name yet.

  “Stop moving around, Mace. I know it’s tough,” Avery told him. “That’s an order. Mishawaka sent ten divisions in to punish the enemy as bad as they could. They finally all agreed that it was now better to send their people in to help, and fight the foe in South Bend, rather than to wait for the enemy to march in on their doorstep.”

  “Wow,” Mason said, still having trouble believing it. “They sent ten thousand troops into battle?”

  Avery nodded. “Almost half of their frontline forces, with the rest of their people out and on the alert, in case the enemy tried something else. Mishawaka won the battle for us, but not the war, I’m afraid. Too many of the enemy squirted out toward the north and got away to regroup. Our combined troops drove them hard and showered them with every arrow we had. We’re still making a full tally of the merc losses–some thousands. We’re not bothering to count the dead monsters, but it was a lot. Most of them have dissolved into slime by now, anyway.”

  Mason nodded slightly. “Good riddance.”

  “We’ve captured a few hundred of the mercs, and three more of their mages–including one of those necromancers that everyone seems so afraid of.”

  “Don’t underestimate them,” Mason said. “We don’t know what their powers are.”

  Avery grunted. “We might not ever know, as quiet and as tight-lipped as those damn mages are. Even when some of our military people have tried to ‘persuade’ them to talk, the enemy mages have some way of shutting down and putting themselves into a trance-like state, where all they do is grunt and smile.”

  “They won’t talk to anyone? Even if you put them in a room with some of the mercenary officers and just listen in?”

  “Nope. We’ve tried everything. They won’t even talk to each other.”

  “What about Blondie?” Mason suggested.

  “Since that necromancer joined them, they won’t even talk to him.”

  “They talk to each other whenever they wish,” Blondie said.

  He stepped in at that moment, smiling and looking genuinely glad to see Mason alive and recovering. Blondie had one arm in a sling and was also bandaged up in several places. No one who had fought near Mason had gotten away unscathed.

  Blondie continued. “As I’ve told you before, the enemy mages all use telepathy to communicate. They don’t have to talk. They have many disciplines and abilities that you are not used to. You are correct; the necromancer has ordered all of his underlings to ignore me and consider me an enemy.”

  Blondie folded his hands together in front of himself. “I’ve been trying to listen in on what they are saying, but I still can’t seem to get my telepathy working properly. All I’ve picked up so far is a few words and phrases here and there. Nothing definite. But I get the impression that they remain supremely overconfident, even as our prisoners and after this recent setback. They continue to underestimate us and see themselves as far superior to Urth people in almost every way. That is an advantage that we can continue to exploit.”

  Mason smiled weakly and took his friend’s hand as Blondie came near. “I’m glad to hear you saying ‘us’ and ‘we’,” he noted.

  Blondie casually frowned and shrugged. “Major, if you have anyone showing signs of developing telepathy or other mental abilities, I would bring them in near the prisoners to see if they can make out anything.”

  Avery nodded. “Will do. Thanks for the intelligence, Blondie.”

  “Free of charge,” Blondie said.

  One of the aides brought folding chairs up to Mason’s bed for Major Avery and Blondie to sit on.

  “So, where does this leave us?” Mason asked.

  Avery sighed. “Better off than we were. We’re back defending the ninth line of defense, and so far, the Mishawaka people are staying with us. Every hour the enemy doesn’t renew their attack works in our favor, but we know they’re out there. They will regroup and hit us again, as soon as they are ready. And we still can’t stop them.”

  “Perhaps we should attack them out in the open,” Blondie said. “That would certainly surprise them.”

  “We’ve considered pressing our current advantage,” Avery said. “But fighting in the built-up areas of the city that we know gives us many advantages. Out in the open, our forces could be cut off and surrounded far too easily. The enemy still possesses superior numbers by our estimates. At least three or four to one, but that is difficult to confirm. And we can’t hold very long without the Pistolero or the Shooting Stars.”

  Mason’s mouth fell open. The girls. “What has happened to–”

  Avery held up both hands. “Nothing serious. Both will recover. Hannah Masters took an arrow through the meaty p
art of her upper right leg–just a flesh wound. She’ll limp for a while. Minnie Patterson got knocked down by a chunk of debris; she has a light concussion. Both are recovering, the same as you, Mace.

  “We have two other girls impersonating them, walking around at the front in their gear, carrying their weapons. With their helmets on, nobody would know it isn’t the real Shooting Stars. Even most of the troops don’t know. But all of you need to get healthy fast. We don’t know when things are going to heat up again.”

  “Where’s Thulkara?” Mason asked.

  Both Blondie and Major Avery burst out laughing at the same time.

  “She’s bored,” Blondie said. “She’s helping train our troops how to fight better, and that remains a real eye-opener to watch.”

  Avery grimaced. “And when she’s not busting heads, she has taken up a new hobby.”

  Mason blinked. “A what?”

  “A hobby. She likes to paint.”

  “Shoot me dead right now.”

  “Serious as a heart attack, Mace. She’s taking lessons at the art museum. At least it gives our troops a rest. Our people have gotten tougher, but they sure aren’t Thulls. We’ve had to repeatedly ask her to tone down her training so that our people aren’t getting banged up too much. That woman is a menace–the greatest single fighter I have ever seen.”

  “Wait until she locates this prince of her people that she keeps bragging about,” Blondie said. “Thulkara says that he’s the best of the best–that he puts all of the other Thulls to shame.”

  “Now that, I would like to see. What I wouldn’t give to have an army of those big buggers fighting for us,” Avery said. “But we don’t. Yet I am glad that she is on our side, that’s for sure. When you fell, Mace, Thulkara scooped you up and fought off all comers. Blondie blasted that necromancer and his goons close up when they tried to go after you. He zapped them with a spray of what looked to be some kind of red, glowing needles that struck everything in front of him and then detonated. The blast cut down or stunned the enemy front wave and broke them. That’s how we captured the enemy mages. We trussed them up, gagged them, and dragged them back with you.”

  Mason smiled and shook Blondie’s hand again. “Thanks, my friend. Give my thanks to Thulkara, as well, or send her in to see me.”

  Blondie grinned again. “I’ll do both. You keep healing, Mace. We need you up and around again. I’ll come back and sit with you from time to time, as you heal. I’ll bring you any news I can.”

  “Well, I don’t want you take too much time away from your gals that are always chasing you,” Mason told him.

  “Yeah, I might have to slack off a bit for a few days. I got banged up a little myself, as you can see. But at least I won’t be bedridden like you are–in your way, at least.”

  Everybody in the room had a good chuckle. Blondie had his reputation for being a major player to maintain. He seemed to derive a great deal of personal pride, satisfaction, and pleasure from that rep. Blondie loved the ladies, and a certain slice of them were more than willing to love him right back.

  He always seemed to have his choice of eager dance partners to take a stroll with at night, or during the day, even when there wasn’t a dance anywhere.

  49

  Two council members were delayed. The big town forum was therefore held off for one more hour.

  During that time, David and Jerriel went off to an adjacent meeting room and held another debriefing and discussion session with Dirk, Connie, and members of the Research and Advisory Council. With the coup attempt and everything else, there hadn’t been enough time before that point.

  They continued to get as much information out of Jerriel as time and scheduling permitted.

  For the first time, David told them what the dragon mentioned about the demon in town. He went over his ordeal of falling into the glowing pool, and then his out-of-body experience immediately thereafter, during the battle on Jefferson Street. He described what he both saw and overheard in the enemy camp during that vision.

  Jerriel laughed. She apparently had a perfect explanation for what occurred. She tried to explain it to them all as best she could.

  “Yoo were not dead, Daeved.”

  But his physical body had been left helpless while his spirit was away from his body in astral form. His physical body would have been at the mercy of any foe that stumbled upon it.

  Much as the dragon Shavalkathar had told him, the enchanted pools were random, Wild Magic of varying types.

  In short, he had fallen into a glowing pool that had separated his spirit from his still living body and released his astral form, which then had been able to zip around–invisible and insubstantial–much like a ghost. Once up in the air, his thoughts had directed him where they would, finally drawn to the lights of the observation camp of the enemy, up on that nearby hillside.

  And he had been able to understand what they said because, in astral form–much like dragons–he understood the pure language of sentient thoughts.

  The account of his adventures intrigued Dirk and the others.

  “Can such an experience be duplicated under controlled conditions?” Dirk asked. “The possibilities for intelligence, communications, and scouting alone would be...staggering.”

  Jerriel shook her head. “My magic does not woork that way. I am not a traveler. I can not travel in ethereal or astral form, oor blink, or telepoort. Soome wizards can. It is a rare gift, like mine for wizardry and enchanting. I inherited them from my mother.”

  Dirk leaned forward eagerly. “Yes, David also told us how you might enchant some of his weapons to work better. Can you do so for others?”

  “It would take some time. I would gladly do so for you, Dirk. Perhaps we can find others among yoor people, like Rob-hert, who have my talent as well. That would help.”

  “What do you have in mind, Dirk?” David asked.

  “I want an edge. As much as we can get. I’m picturing a strike force of a few hundred to a few thousand troops ready to go anywhere, any time, and face down any threat. Led by you two and any others that you hand pick. Elite fighters. Best of the best. Weapons and armor enchanted to the hilt, if we have time to do so.”

  “A shock force,” David said.

  “Pretty much.”

  Someone handed Connie a note.

  “Gentleman, I’m sorry,” Connie said. “I know we’re breaking new ground here, but we don’t have much time left before the meeting.”

  “Wait!” David said. “What about those people I saw? The enemy leaders, those wizards in the black masks and robes? They were directing the assault on our town. They seemed pretty pissed off that we were somehow managing to win against the forces they sent at us.”

  “Intriguing,” Dirk said. “But they’re gone now, and we don’t know where they went, why, or when they’ll return, if ever. We can watch for them, but it’s not a lot to go on. Jerriel, any thoughts?”

  Her face turned pale and took on a very grave expression. “Sounds like the woork of mages from the Dark Khabal. Something as cataclysmic as the Merge woould be the perfect chaotic oppoortunity for them to may-hake a grab for power in the coloonies, oor anywhere they think they could subjugate others to expand their control.”

  “What is this cult?”

  She bowed her head. “The Dark Khabal is a plague on my woorld, and now upon yoors, apparently. A secret league of wizards. Criminals who practice the darkest, moost forbidden and destructive magicks. They are in league with assassins, and demoons, and oother vile creatures from the Shadow Worlds and the negative plane dimensions. Their goal is to dominate or destrooy all life, accoording to their oown tyrannical whims, and woorse–the dicta-hates of their real masters: the Old Ones, the Fallen, The Dark Ghods.”

  She paused and lifted her clenched right fist. “I think that they may have had a hand in the deaths of my parents. We coould never proove it. Befoore they died, my parents were among the Khabal’s greatest foes.”

  David stared.
<
br />   Oh, joy. More bad guys.

  Clearly these were enemies more powerful than the mortal insects living in South Bend. The leader even said something to that effect. To the enemy, David’s hometown was just another worthless little Urth hamlet to be wiped out in the course of their grand quest for power.

  “To hell with them,” David said. “They wanted to annihilate us! They even sent more forces than they thought it would take, and we still beat them. We beat the hell out of them, and we beat the odds. We defeated them all and crushed them! They must be really pissed by now.”

  Dirk wasn’t so happy. He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his temples. “It’s not just the monsters, now. We have powerful, intelligent enemies who tried to destroy us–as an afterthought. They even stated that more important matters were calling them away. They seem to know a great deal about us and our world. Yet we know next to nothing about them and theirs. Jerriel, we need everything that you have on this cult.”

  “My father and mother opposed them most of their lives,” she said. “Not I.” She held up her hands. “They act in secret most of the time. I spent my years studying magic and enchanting. I have my father’s journal, but it was written in his magical, coded scripts. He did so with all of his writings and notes. Even my older brother could not understand it. Wizards in general are a secretive lot. Given time and research, I might be able to unlock the journal’s secrets. My father must have kept notes on the Dark Mages, as many times as he helped thwart their evil plots.”

  “Keep working on that,” Dirk told her. “Inform us immediately about any progress. I don’t think we have anything definite that we can tell the public yet, so we’ll keep this under wraps until we do. Everybody’s scared enough right now.”

  Connie rose up, after a messenger zipped in and whispered to her once more.