“Judge,” Nicky said in a firm voice, “you can’t insist on bail when no charge has been filed. And, in the absence of proof of perjury, you have no basis for a contempt finding.”
Judge Eastwood stroked his jaw. “We’ll see. Also, a bond is only acceptable if someone well-established within the community co-signs.”
Nicky looked at Diana.
She nodded.
“Diana Murray, the mayor’s chief of staff, is willing to co-sign.”
For the first time, the judge seemed to notice her. That seemed to give him pause. Then he glared at Nicky. “How did a young man who’s supposedly new in town manage to end up with two such powerful angels watching over him?”
Nicky’s smile burst out again. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Your Honor. Ms. Murray and I cherish religious freedom and share a thirst for justice.”
The judge shook his head. “Ms. Murray can forfeit fifteen thousand dollars if Mr. O’Rourke fails to appear at the next hearing.”
Diana nodded.
“We’ll take a short recess,” the judge said, “and then we’ll wrap up the defendant’s guilty plea.”
Then he pounded his gavel and left the bench.
Nicky grabbed my hand and ushered me toward the door. A deputy followed us. As we left, Nicky motioned for Diana to follow. But before we could leave the courtroom, however, we were approached by a middle-aged woman holding a pen and a notepad.
“Hello again, Nicky,” she said. “Fascinating stuff. Just wonderful drama. Our readers are dying to hear all about Ian’s magical talents. What—”
“No comment, Cindy,” Nicky replied. “None.”
The woman asked me and Diana some questions, but we silently followed Nicky as he stepped into the hallway outside the courtroom.
The deputy stayed with me, but Nicky asked him for a moment with his client.
Nicky pulled me aside. “You need to go with the deputy, get processed into the system, and let them take your picture. Then Diana can post your bail, and you’ll both sign the standard bail agreement. It’s likely that your two slaves will be processed at the same time. Keep your head down for the next few days. Diana and I will deal with the DA and the sheriff.”
I began to thank him, but he put a finger to his lips. “This is a long way from being over.”
He left for his office.
Diana waited while I was photographed and fingerprinted, then she posted the bail. We signed the paperwork and were done. Somehow, I knew my mugshots were going to be in tomorrow’s paper.
After I was finished, we waited for my two slaves to be processed. Then I ordered them into Diana’s car, and she drove us to the ranch.
When we got there, I said to them, “You will obey Diana and her designated supervisors as you would obey me.”
“Yes, Master,” they both intoned in calm voices.
Diana asked them, “How did the Boulder sorcerers find out about your new master?”
The bald one bowed to her. “We are bound by a blood oath not to say.”
She scowled. “At a minimum, you can tell us how you found out about your master’s presence on the road in Boulder Canyon.”
The bearded one said, “I received a text on my phone.”
She motioned for him to give it up. When he did, she reviewed his texts. “This is shocking,” she told me.
The message he had referred to simply said, Intercept a rusted 1966 blue Cadillac Eldorado now driving up the canyon. Kill the driver or enslave him. His photo is attached.
My heart raced.
“They must be watching whoever goes in and out of this property,” Diana said.
Then she pulled up the attached photo. It was my DMV photo, the one that had been all over the news. She asked, “Is there a bounty on him?”
The bald guy nodded. “Five grand, dead or alive. We wouldn’t have gone after him otherwise. He’d done nothing against us.”
Diana’s young blonde assistant, Amber, met us and took the slaves away.
When our Supreme Leader and I were alone again, she said, “This has turned out much worse than I’d imagined, at least as far as publicity goes. You’ll be in tomorrow’s paper.”
“I’m so sorry that this—”
She interrupted me. “In case it’s escaped your notice, our clan tries to remain anonymous. That’s all shattered to hell now. More sorcerers will definitely target you for revenge, particularly now that you’ve beaten two of their fellow assholes.”
I couldn’t think for a moment. I hadn’t wanted to enslave them; she had. But this probably wasn’t the best time to remind her of that fact. “What do I do now? I’m trying to learn how to fight, but it isn’t coming easily.”
“Get serious, then,” she snapped. “As soon as possible. You’re going to need protection like no one else in the clan.”
We walked into the commons building together.
“And another thing,” she said. “Tess will take you to the city tomorrow to buy decent clothes. You look like a homeless person. I’m surprised the judge didn’t remark on that fact while he was so eagerly reaming you out.”
She hurried into her office without saying goodbye.
I spotted Laura waiting inside the office. She bowed to Diana on one knee, the older woman whispered something in her ear. No doubt, it was that she’d be wise to avoid me.
-o-o-o-
LAURA LED ME TO the main dining room, and after I grabbed a couple of smoked pork chops with all the fixings, she and I sat with Tess and Christina, who were just finishing their dinner. Between bites, I explained what had happened in court with me and my two slaves.
Laura mostly listened, but she asked several times how I felt as the bad news piled up. She was such a caring person.
Tess was more practical. She wanted to hear all the details of Nicky’s expectations about what would happen next, but he hadn’t said much.
Christina just wanted to sit in the hero’s lap, so I held her with one hand while eating with the other.
Laura said, “Things never go smooth and easy for you, do they?”
“Not since this magic thing started. The gods must’ve decided I needed more challenges, like getting whacked over the head by my fighting master. That reminds me, I need to make my own staff.”
Tess said, “Toughen up, Farm Boy. You didn’t seem to be trying.”
Laura put in, “Maybe part of your annoyance was at how Diana tried to ravage your disciple last night without asking you for permission first?”
Tess shook her head, and then told me, “If someone here tries to make you do anything again, let me know right away.”
“Yes, Master.”
Laura smiled at me. “I’ve arranged for you to get some time in our woodshop tonight with one of our skilled woodworkers. She’ll help you make your staff. I’ll take you over there as soon as we’ve finished here.”
-o-o-o-
Brigid’s Woodshop, Boulder County, Colorado
TRUE TO HER WORD, Laura took me to a two-story building with a large open room filled with work tables and various pieces of machinery.
I held her hand firmly in mine and liked it more and more. She didn’t seem to mind getting closer to me despite how Diana treated me.
The only other person in the room was a short, stocky, gray-haired woman wearing a smock over a flannel shirt and jeans.
“I’m Lucinda Ricci,” she said, sticking out her hand. “Congratulations on healing the retriever earlier today. Gary was very impressed.”
Laura looked at me with questioning eyes but didn’t say anything.
“I’m happy to meet you,” I replied. “I hear I can use some of your tools to make a staff. Is that right?”
The old woman rubbed her hands together. “Absolutely, and I’m happy to help. From what I’ve been told, your magic has unusual properties. Infusing it into the wood should be fun.”
L
aura waved goodbye. “I’ll leave you to it, Ian. Tess asked me to remind you about your training session first thing tomorrow morning.”
I nodded. “And I’ll see you and Christina at breakfast.”
She beamed.
Then I faced Lucinda. “I left a tree trunk I’d like to use in the barn.”
She pointed to one corner. “I have it. We don’t use fir much because it’s not a particularly strong wood. But I understand it has sentimental value. That can heavily outweigh other factors.”
The trunk was about ten feet long, but I knew a lot of the wood was too thin. If I could get a staff half that long from it, I’d be happy.
“First thing,” Lucinda said. “Strip off the branches.” She handed me a pair of pruners. “Let me know when you’re done.”
She set the tree trunk on a long worktable and walked away.
I hadn’t realized how many branches there were—dozens. I cut all them off as close to the trunk as I could and then waved at her.
“That’s a good start.” She took the bare trunk and fastened the top of it in a wood vise. Then she handed me a large plane. “You can use this to shave off most of the wood on the thick end so that your staff will have an equal diameter along its whole length. Be careful not to take off too much. It won’t grow back.”
The plane cut through the trunk easily, but there was a lot of material to remove at the base. Eventually, I got most of the trunk down to a two-inch diameter.
Lucinda came by from time to time and encouraged me. She obviously had a nurturing style Diana and Tess could benefit from, even if she didn’t have to fight sorcerers for a living.
“Okay,” Lucinda said when I had finished the planing. “Now, the question is, how smooth do you want your staff to be. I prefer the roughhewn look, but it’s entirely a matter of individual preference.”
“Roughhewn sounds good to me.”
“Perfect. First, let’s tidy this up a bit with a spoke shave.”
She handed me the tool, and I used it to smooth out the rough edges left by the plane. Then I cut the ragged ends off the trunk. That left a stick six feet long.
“Now comes the fun part.” Lucinda’s eyes gleamed. “We need a few drops of your blood. I’ve already taken samples from your two slaves. We’ll mix it up with my secret sauce, and then we coat the staff liberally with the mixture. It will stain the wood dark brown, but if you prefer black, we can do that instead.”
“Brown is fine.”
She gave me a needle that she’d sterilized in a flame. I pricked my finger and squeezed out several drops of blood into a cup filled with a dark mixture that smelled like turpentine. After stirring it, she gave me the cup and a brush.
“Apply it liberally. We’ll let it dry overnight. In the morning, I’ll carve a series of designs.” She pulled out a sheet of paper. “I’ve taken the liberty of making some preliminary sketches. Does any of this appeal to you?”
All I could say was, “Wow!”
She had an extraordinary gift as an artist. She’d drawn two dozen figures, including my face, Grandma Norrie’s, Grandpa Samuel’s, my parents’ and those of my other relatives who had been killed in Oklahoma. She must’ve gotten photos from Maggie and Samuel. In addition, she had added the faces of my two slaves and several small drawings of wheat and sunflowers.
“These are fantastic,” I said.
“Good. If you have any favorite phrases, I can add those.”
I jotted down Never Forget. Then I asked, “Could you add Tess’s face? She’s my fighting master.”
“Of course. It should be finished by noon tomorrow. I’m sure it will look wonderful.”
-o-o-o-
Monday, September 9th
IN THE MORNING, I looked for Tess and Laura in the dining room, but I only found Laura and her daughter. When I asked Laura if they’d seen our master of arms, Laura said, “She ate quickly. Said she had to research something before meeting you.”
I breakfasted with Laura and Christina and told them about the staff that I’d helped make last night. Both of them seemed eager to see it, and when we parted, I kissed them goodbye. I’d lucked out big time in meeting them.
At eight o’clock, I walked into Tess’s training room.
She looked up from a book she had been studying. “I’ve been trying to figure out why your wall ward didn’t work the other day. You seemed to be doing the right things.”
I approached her and bowed. “Thank you, Master, for working so hard to help your wretched disciple.”
One of her eyebrows arched up. “You’d better not be mocking me.”
Maybe just a little, but I shook my head. She loved being appreciated, but who didn’t?
I pointed at the book. “What’s that?”
She lifted one side so I could see the cover. It was old, leather-bound, and covered in runes. “This is the best reference book we have on fighting magic. It’s a translation of a book about Celtic fighting techniques that were originally developed in the eighth century B.C. in what is now Austria. Unfortunately, the original text was lost to the ravages of time. A Roman wizard translated the old Celtic into Latin in the fifth century A.D. That manuscript was destroyed during the Crusades. This”—she tapped the book—“is a copy of a twelfth-century English translation from the Latin parchment.” She closed the book. “So much of our ancient wisdom has been lost to the ages.”
“That’s why I can’t get my hands on a reliable book about magic?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry,” she said. “I’ve taught some complete morons how to defend themselves.”
“Such high praise makes my heart flutter, Master. I will study hard.”
“Great, but let’s focus on improving your concentration.” She paused to let her comment sink in. “I think the problem before was that you were too agitated. To make most magic work, you need to calm your mind and focus.”
I snorted. “Not like now? I could swallow a dozen Valium, and I’d still be wired up from the way that judge and Diana chewed me out.”
She stood and paced around the room. “Second rule of magical fighting—don’t let anyone break your spirit.”
A good point. I nodded.
She pointed to a chair in front of the desk. “Sit.”
I sat.
Tess stood behind me. “Relax. Take long, deep breaths, letting all your worries flow away as you exhale. Nothing else matters.”
I focused on the physical sensations of breathing.
She stayed motionless, maybe to steady me. Eventually, she said, “Better. You seem mellower. Listen to what I say next, but don’t try to understand it.”
She spoke several sentences in a foreign language, and I felt something surge through me, a feeling of excitement and anticipation.
“It’s working,” she said. “Now, bring your magical core to the front of your mind. I’ll help.”
I found it immediately, but it felt different, more eager, like my core had changed.
“I should’ve tried this Holar variation to the Vello spell earlier,” Tess said. “Now, visualize a strong fortress you’ve seen somewhere. Using your magical kernel, think about the strongest stone wall you’ve ever seen.”
That threw me. “What fortress? Oklahoma doesn’t have castles. Nothing good is coming to mind.”
“Let your memories swirl past. No hurry.” She stayed behind me.
I thought about a stone wall around an old church I’d seen in Stillwater. “I think I have one.”
Her voice remained soothing. “Excellent. Concentrate on that wall and think, ‘Holar, protège.’ Keep visualizing the wall in your head.”
That raised something I’d wondered about lately. “I just imagine something, and it’ll happen?”
“Once you’ve trained your mind properly. Someone inoculated you with Erbater magic. Now, I’ve planted the seeds for two other kinds of magic to grow, Vello and Holar. For now, just concentrate on your
core.”
I thought about the rock wall in Stillwater, but that didn’t help much.
Then I felt Tess share my thoughts. “Holar, protège.”
Tess’s way worked. An invisible barrier surrounded both of us. After a moment, it dissipated.
I created the ward on my own several times, and then Tess said, “Excellent. Let’s try something different. Think about trying to immobilize someone, and say, ‘Holar, gèle!”
I tried several times, but nothing happened. Obviously, healing magic was easier for me than fighting.
Tess’s voice remained as calm and even as ever. “No problem. Let’s go back to the ward again.”
“Holar, protège,” I said.
This time, though, it didn’t work.
Tess paused for a moment. “Maybe you need to visualize a stronger fortress.”
“I haven’t seen any castles in real life.”
“Good point. Where have you travelled?”
“Colorado Springs and the mountains west of there.”
But Colorado didn’t seem to have any fortresses, either. So, I thought about other family trips. Many years ago, we’d visited the Alamo. I tried to bring up those memories. That helped…but General Santa Ana’s army had overrun the Alamo’s defenders and killed every last man. Definitely not good inspiration.
The tension from earlier in the courtroom began to seep back into me.
I kept thinking about other buildings with strong walls, but nothing better than the Alamo came to mind. I asked for help from both Holar and Vello, but neither was inclined to make any wards for me.
“It’s not working.”
Tess’s voice remained cheerful. “No problem. We all struggle sometimes. After the last few days you’ve had, I shouldn’t have expected you to be able to relax as much as necessary. Mea culpa. Let’s try something completely different.”
I knew from past experience that patience wasn’t her strong suit. “How can you be so understanding when I’m screwing up like this?”
“You’ve got plenty of raw magical talent for healing. I heard about that dog you helped yesterday. Your power is inside, snapping and crackling like a furious dragon wanting to break free. I can sense it, at least your gift for helping animals. I just have to figure out how to channel that power for fighting.”
Lone Survivor: The Sorcerers' Scourge Series: Book One Page 12
