Lone Survivor: The Sorcerers' Scourge Series: Book One

by Michael Arches

  Then I summarized the rest of the trip, including the Wanted bulletin on TV and the Elbert County deputies.

  When I finished, Maggie sat silent. Finally, she said, “Just horrible, dearie. I could use something to numb the pain. What about you?”

  “Irish?”

  “Scotch will have to do. The closest decent liquor store’s in Boulder.”

  I nodded. Scotch would do. No way was I driving down that canyon and back up today.

  Maggie left the room and brought back two tumblers, each half-full of the amber liquid. I downed mine a big gulp and welcomed the burning in my throat for a change.

  We drank in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

  Then she said, “While we’re talking about terrible things, it’s best to get the rest out in the open. I mentioned sorcerers a few minutes ago, and you flinched. Obviously, your grandma didn’t tell you what you face here.”

  Maggie was damned perceptive. “What the hell. Go ahead and ruin the rest of my day.”

  The scotch wasn’t doing its work yet. “Dad always said the sheriff back home was a sorcerer, but Dad thought he was the only one we had to worry about.”

  Maggie sighed. “In this county, we have over a hundred of the black-hearted bastards, and a few sorceresses to boot.”

  “How many witches?” I asked.

  She paused. “About an equal number, not including the kids. Most clans here practice Celtic magic. The most important community is matriarchal. Its leader is one tough lady, a Celtic priestess named Diana Murray. Watch your mouth around her, or you could lose your head.”

  I wasn’t sure what the implications of that were. Dad and Mom had both run the show back in Oklahoma—benevolent despots. “So, they don’t like men here?”

  She chuckled. “Not at all. Male witches, particularly those who know how to fight, are extremely popular. We can’t afford to hang on to them, though. You could be real popular if you know how to use attack spells.”

  I rubbed my face with my hands. This day had been too damned long already. “Uh, no. Our only threat came from a powerful county official, so it wasn’t like we could fight him. Our family banded together for strength, and until yesterday, the sheriff left us alone.”

  “Ian, most adult witches here have to fight to protect themselves, or they need to keep a fighter close. Only children and pregnant women are immune from sorcerer attacks. I can sense power within you, but I can’t tell whether you have what it takes to become a warrior. You’ll have to learn, or you’ll end up stuck inside some refuge protected with wards.”

  I’d gone through a huge change of heart since yesterday morning. “I will happily kill any sorcerer, every damned one I can find. There’s nothing I want more than payback for what they did to my family. Don’t worry, I’ll learn to fight.”

  Maggie stood. “Good. Listen, that’s enough depressing talk for one day. The good news is there’s no threat near here. The danger’s down in Boulder and in the other big cities in Colorado. I’ll explain more tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m so glad you made it here safe and sound.”

  I followed her to a guest room with a queen-sized bed. Perfect for a big guy like me. After saying good night, I stripped down to my underwear and collapsed onto the soft mattress.

  -o-o-o-

  Wednesday, September 4th

  ALTHOUGH I’D FALLEN ASLEEP in the afternoon, I didn’t wake up until the crack of dawn. Maggie was still asleep, so I dressed and walked out to the empty dirt road in front of her house. The area was hidden by a cool mist.

  I closed my eyes and emptied my mind. I could see the basic shapes ahead, but only dimly. In this trancelike state, I could feel my heart beginning to recover from the pain I’d suffered over the last two days.

  Luckily, I had the road completely to myself. I breathed deep and strolled through the clouds swirling across the ground. I was safe again. The only sounds I heard came from songbirds in the meadows on both sides of the road.

  When I returned from my stroll, the house remained dark and quiet. So, I sat at the dining room table and used my cellphone to search the Internet for articles about fighting spells.

  That was a bust. Most of the results I found related to role-playing games. I couldn’t find any magical Fighting for Dummies books or useful information about Celtic witchcraft. Lots of wannabes had posted articles, but they were obviously phony.

  Apparently, the first rule of true witchcraft was, don’t talk in public about witchcraft.

  Maggie eventually wandered out of her room and pulled a bag of homemade cookies from her freezer. “I hope this will tide you over until breakfast. I’ve got milk and apple juice, too.”

  “This’ll be great, and milk.”

  I hadn’t eaten much since the murders, but I had to keep my strength up. Her oatmeal raisin cookies were fantastic, so I demolished a dozen in short order.

  “Maybe we should get control of your aura,” Maggie said. “It’s flaring quite a bit. Not surprising, given what you’ve been through. If we don’t tame it, it’ll signal your presence to sorcerers.”

  I should’ve known that. Dad had offered to help me control my aura, but it hadn’t been a problem back home. But if a sorcerer here figured out that I was a witch before I learned to fight, I’d be toast.

  “Magic didn’t help me work the farm,” I said, “so I never felt the need to cast a spell. The only magic I used connected me with animals, but that comes naturally.”

  “Hold my hand.” She reached out. “We have to find a special feeling flitting around inside you. It’s your magical core—a subtle thing, hard to for a neophyte to notice. It’s like a dust mote swirling in a breeze.”

  I had no idea what she meant. “You sure I’ve got one of those core things?”

  Maggie half-suppressed a snort. “To you, it’s almost invisible, but for an experienced witch, it flashes like the red lights on an ambulance. First, you need to relax and concentrate on your breath.”

  I sensed Maggie sharing my mind. That was more than a little creepy. I was no pervert, but God only knew how the woman would react to my feelings about Taylor Swift in short shorts.

  I pushed that thought away before Maggie could slap me senseless. After a moment, a tiny nervous feeling began to flutter around inside me. It wasn’t something I could see so much as feel.

  “There,” Maggie whispered. “That’s it. Just focus on the sensation.”

  I did and tried to clear my mind of everything else.

  “Perfect,” she whispered. “Now, think or say, ‘Erbater, turn off my aura.’”

  “Erbater, turn off my aura,” I repeated.

  Maggie blew out a deep breath. “Perfect. All better.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. What does Erbater mean?”

  She stared at me like I’d asked, what is Christmas?

  “The legend is he’s a great ancient magician who perfected Brigid’s magic. She’s the real source, but Erbater understood her better than anyone before. His teachings have been passed on for thousands of years through his guild. I’m a member, and so was Norrie. Think of it like this. You’re offering a prayer to her through him, asking for help from both.”

  I sat back in my chair and tried to remember that odd feeling from my magic core. “How did you know I could do this?”

  She patted my hand. “The O’Rourke family has been conjuring Erbater magic for eons unknown. In addition, your great-great-great-grandma Eilwen was a Mendile witch. She wasn’t just famous for her leg of lamb, kid. Many witches today say she was the greatest healer this country has ever known. Some of her power is in your blood and bones, too. It’s time to find out what your talents are.”

  -o-o-o-

  MAGGIE WAS SWEET ENOUGH to cook me a traditional country breakfast of eggs, bacon, grits, and toast. After we’d finished eating every last crumb, she said, “Listen, I’ve invited a couple of young people over. You’re in your mid-twenties, right?�
�

  “Fine.” I’d never been a sociable guy, but if I was going to fit into this new community of witches, I had to start meeting folks.

  “They belong to Brigid’s clan here,” Maggie said. “That’s the largest group of witches in the county. Not coincidentally, their ranch is the safest place for you, if they’ll accept you. They’re very picky.”

  “A magical commune?” I asked. “Like hippies doing New Age stuff?”

  Maggie shook her head. “More like an ancient Druid tribe. They’re the reason Boulder contains the only surviving sanctuary for witches in the Rocky Mountain West.”

  Picky didn’t sound promising. “How hard is it to join?”

  Maggie paused as though she was trying to figure out the best way to break bad news. “They only take people who will strengthen their clan. You have to be able to provide some benefit they need.”

  I got a sinking feeling. “I’m a farmer, and I know a lot about ranching.”

  Maggie wouldn’t look directly at me. “We’ll figure something out, I’m sure. If you’re willing to fight, I think they’ll take you.”

  I’m sure—that’s what people say when they aren’t sure. At any rate, I tried to avoid freaking out. At least I had a chance.

  While we waited, I picked up the dishes from the table and washed them.

  A few minutes after I finished, Maggie’s friends showed up. She’d invited two women my age, and we met in the living room.

  Tess O’Dell was a tall, stocky redhead, covered with freckles. Laura Reynolds was much daintier, like a ballerina. Her long, sandy-brown hair fell in waves down her back. Her smile was as sweet as could be.

  I shook hands with both of them and introduced myself.

  “So, what’s your magical talent?” Tess asked me straight out of the gate.

  “I make a mean margarita with only three ingredients.”

  Laura burst out laughing in an embarrassed kind of way.

  “That’s always useful for parties,” Tess said. “I meant something actually useful. Like me, I kick sorcerers’ asses.” Her deadpan delivery told me she wasn’t kidding about the kickass part.

  I’d already screwed up. “Well, I’m not sure I’ve got much of a gift for magic,” I replied, “unless you count having a way with animals.”

  “Of course we would count that,” Laura hurried to say. “That’s a wonderful ability, very helpful on a ranch like ours.”

  Tess rolled her eyes.

  “Ian is an unpolished diamond,” Maggie said. “I’m sure one or both of you will turn him into an amazing witch.”

  Laura grinned as though she was willing to give it a go. “I was blessed with healing hands, so if you get banged up, I’ll put you back together.”

  That sounded great. “Wonderful. I tend to get knocked around a lot. Born clumsy, I guess. Grandma was always patching me up before she passed on.”

  Maggie patted my arm. “You never were one to put on airs, like so many young men today. I think you have immense magical talent hidden within you.”

  “I’m sure,” Laura said.

  There was that phrase again.

  Tess stared at the ceiling and shifted from foot to foot.

  “Let’s head out back and get some air,” Maggie said. “Tess promised to plant a tree for me, Ian. Maybe you kids could do that together. I’ll sit on the porch and catch up with the cat.”

  We walked out the back door, and I found colors blazing on all sides. Flowers had burst forth in bright shades everywhere outside. A massive redwood arbor led past long beds of perennials to a manicured lawn. The thick timbers were straining under the weight of a half-dozen huge pink climbing roses that shaded a gravel walkway below the arbor. The flowers’ rich fragrance filled the air, and I breathed it in deeply to help settle my nerves.

  As much as the three of them tried to disguise it, this was a job interview I was quickly failing.

  The younger women and I walked toward the back of edge of the grass, where a large blue spruce sat in a plastic bucket. Someone had driven a stake into the ground, and two shovels were leaning against a nearby wheelbarrow. I grabbed the closest shovel.

  Laura smiled at me and Tess. “I’ll provide managerial support.”

  Tess laughed. “I’m sure Ian and I can manage one tree by ourselves.”

  One truism about farming is that a man had better enjoy putting his back into his living. This, I could do, and it was a particularly fine morning to be working outside. The fog had burned off, and the yard was bathed in bright sunshine. The tall trees in the surrounding forest swayed in the breeze, closing us in. We seemed to be cut off from most of the world, like a sanctuary.

  Tess dug with enthusiasm, but I outweighed her, so I made sure I did the lion’s share of the work. We three chatted about the weather, a safe subject.

  Eventually, Tess said, “Maggie tells us you’re related to Eilwen O’Rourke, but it sounds like you didn’t inherit her extraordinary healing powers.”

  “True. To tell you the truth, I’m known more for having a strong back than for any healing ability with people. But I have had good luck helping nurse critters back to health.”

  The two women looked at each other but said nothing in response. I’d obviously put my foot in my mouth again—which didn’t surprise me. I’d never had much luck chatting with the ladies.

  When Tess and I had finished the hole, I tilted the spruce over on its side and slid the root ball out of the bucket. Then I hefted it into the hole. When Laura thought it was standing upright, Tess and I backfilled the hole.

  When we finished, Laura patted me on the arm. “I always appreciate someone willing to help with hard work. Listen; don’t sell yourself short when you talk with our council. I liked Maggie’s phrase: a diamond in the rough.”

  Tess nodded. “Any guy as tall and strong as you should be able to fight. Witches and sorcerers battle with more than their minds. We see a lot of hand-to-hand combat. If you’re willing to defend the clan, Laura and I might be able to convince our council to give you a chance.”

  It sounded like my only hope. “Sure.”

  They both smiled at me. I’d finally gotten an answer right.

  They threaded their arms through mine and led me back to Maggie. Damned pleasant women, all in all.

  “I really appreciate your offer to put in a good word for me,” I said. “I’ll definitely try to do whatever you want to make myself useful.”

  “Good attitude,” Tess said. “Be warned, though, we train hard.” She touched a fresh bruise on the side of her neck with an index finger. “Most of my wounds come from my disciples and our kids. We fight as realistically as possible, including using staffs.”

  That raised a question for me. “How often do sorcerers attack the clan?”

  Laura patted me on the back as though to reassure me. “Not often, but then again, we rarely go out in public alone anymore. Tess is our master of arms, and she loves to kick badasses.”

  I’d noticed already that Tess was strong. Not an ounce of flab on her, either.

  She scowled at Laura. “Training is an excellent way to maintain physical fitness. You need to attend class more often.”

  Laura tittered, and it was a wonderfully pleasing sound to the ear. “I get plenty of exercise from chasing kids around all day.”

  Tess’s scowl only darkened. “One day, you’ll need to defend yourself instead of always counting on me. And you need to be a better example for your daughter.”

  Tess obviously wasn’t keen on excuses. I made a mental note. If I was lucky, she’d be teaching me to fight soon.

  The woman seemed to read my mind. “Would you like a quick training session now? Even if you can’t summon much magic, we could practice with fighting staffs.”

  The lady seemed a little too gung-ho, but I nodded anyway. How could I say no during a job interview?

  She dashed away, and Laura came closer. “Just a friendly warning�
�our wonderful master of arms is as tough as a mama grizzly. Train hard with her, or she’ll rake you with her claws.”

  Chapter 4

  BEFORE I COULD ASK Laura what I’d gotten myself into, Tess returned with two five-foot-long wooden poles. With a wide grin, she handed me one. “We’ll need to make you one of your own soon, but for now, you can use this. Let’s start with the basics.”

  She swung her pole through the air with surprising speed. It made a nasty whoosh close to my head.

  “This is sure to be embarrassing,” I said to Laura. “I’d prefer there were no witnesses.”

  Laura giggled. “I’ll go sit with Maggie. You two can beat each other senseless behind the lilacs.”

  Tess motioned for me to follow her behind the hedge. “First thing to remember is, keep your feet moving. Second thing, keep your staff in front of you.”

  She held her weapon at one end with both hands like a broadsword. I did the same. Tess swept her weapon’s tip back and forth a few feet to each side as she circled me.

  I felt like one of those Roman slaves they had tossed into the arena to feed the hungry lions. Although I was armed as well as she, and I was much taller, she had the advantage. I had no clue what I was doing.

  We circled each other, and I imitated how she swung her pole back and forth.

  “Right,” she said. “Keep moving. Focus on my hands. They’ll telegraph my attack.” She tapped the tip of my staff with hers, and I tried to keep mine pointed at her.

  Then she shuffled sideways, smacked my staff hard to clear it away, and punched me in the chest with the blunt tip of her weapon.

  “Ooof!” Damn, that hurt.

  She had knocked the wind out of me, and I panted to catch my breath. The woman could strike with incredible speed.

  She grinned. “Here’s an important teaching moment, newbie. Don’t give me an opening like that again, huh?”

  With one hand, I rubbed my chest. Once I could breathe again, I said, “You’ve got a mean streak, don’t ya?”

  Once again, she smacked the tip of my staff to knock it away, but this time, I used my stronger arms to keep it pointed at her. When she lunged forward this time, I stepped back and to the side. The tip of her weapon still caught my arm.