Wanderers: Ragnarök

by Richard A Bamberg

  What the hell had been in that potion and how long had Biers been there?

  “What is it with men?” Cynthia snapped as she turned to face Biers. “Just because you sleep with them they think they can paw you in public.”

  Biers’ face held surprise for a moment and then it morphed into a smirk. “I hear you. Some people are just too damn cocky for their own good.”

  “Was there something you wanted, Agent Biers?” Cynthia asked.

  “Well, yeah, of course, but right now I’m more interested in exactly whom Mr. Semmes was talking about killing.”

  Killing? Me? What in blue blazes had I said?

  “Kill?” Cynthia laughed. “No, Agent Biers, he was talking about spilling. He jostled my arm as I was transferring hot soup from the stove. We were talking about who was getting up the spill.”

  Biers didn’t look convinced.

  Figuring there couldn’t be too many reasons for my face to be slapped, I stepped beside Cynthia and (making sure Biers could see) adopted a choirboy stance. “My most humble apologies for my rudeness, Cynthia.”

  I turned. “Special Agent Biers, are you bringing us news that the FBI has identified the killer and even now he sits in the local jail?”

  Biers frowned. “No, we’re still investigating.”

  “Then why did you stop by?” I asked.

  “I wanted to know what happened to the two of you after you left the police office yesterday.”

  “What happened to us? Why, we went for a long ride on my Harley and then met Cynthia’s cousin at a concert on the mountain,” I said.

  “That’s right, Agent Biers. We were together,” Cynthia added.

  “Strange, I’m told that you separated and Mr. Semmes left the concert before it began.”

  “It sounds to me like you’ve been listening to the lies of Cris’s ex,” I said.

  “Ex?” Biers asked.

  “Yes, they broke up last night. Apparently Daniel said some things to Cris that were downright insulting. I asked her if she wanted me to kick his ass for her.”

  “I can imagine how that would have worked,” Biers said, deadpan.

  “He may have me in bulk, but I’m wiry.” I smiled and flexed a bicep.

  Cynthia laughed, a little nervously, and tugged my arm down. She laced her fingers through mine and held my hand at her side. “Seriously, Agent Biers, we were together last night, all night. You can ask my cousin Cris after Daniel stormed off the three of us returned to my house for the night. We had breakfast together this morning.”

  “The three of you?” Biers said, looking from me to Cynthia and back again.

  Cynthia laughed. “It’s a three-bedroom house, Agent Biers, but we’re not bashful.”

  “I hate to ask again, but why are you here? We answered all of your questions yesterday,” I said. It was obvious why she was there, but I wanted the discussion out in the open so Cynthia wouldn’t make any mistakes about our story.

  Biers frowned. “You didn’t answer half my questions yesterday including dodging the ones about Castle Rock.”

  I really didn’t want to go into my background story with Cynthia present. How do you get a Fed to change the subject?

  “Castle Rock? What about Castle Rock?” Cynthia asked.

  Without taking her eyes off me, Biers said, “There were a series of murders there a few months ago. Your boyfriend was identified as a witness in at least one of the killings. There was a similar case in Big Bend National Park last spring and Mr. Semmes was noted in the files of that investigation also. In fact, his name has appeared in many of the cases I’ve investigated over the last few years.”

  I could feel Cynthia’s stare and didn’t turn to meet it. “What’s she talking about, Rafe?”

  “I don’t know. I told her I hadn’t been in Wyoming this year. I was in Texas, but Austin’s a long way from Big Bend.”

  Damn Biers, if I had five minutes alone with her I’d put a geas on her that would make her forget my name and all about me. Yesterday, in the interrogation room, I couldn’t risk it and I certainly couldn’t in front of Cynthia, but if I ever got her alone.

  “And then there’s the here and now,” Biers said. “For once I’ve reached the scene while the murders are ongoing and here I find the same Raphael A. Semmes involved up to his eyeballs.”

  “I told you that must have been my father in Wyoming or maybe a cousin. Maybe we’re just an unlucky family,” I said.

  “Was this man in Wyoming suspected of the murders?” Cynthia asked.

  I turned to find Cynthia still staring at me.

  “No, he wasn’t a suspect,” Biers said.

  Cynthia finally turned to Biers. “Then why are you harassing Rafe?”

  “He’s involved. He may not be committing the murders, but he knows a damn sight more than he’s admitting. That’s obstruction of justice if not accessory after the fact.”

  “Or maybe you just believe that I’m a part of some vast conspiracy,” I taunted.

  Biers walked toward me, only stopping when our noses were almost touching. “One more smart-ass remark out of you and you’ll be held for questioning until I do get answers. Do I make myself clear, Mr. Semmes?”

  It was definitely not the time for witticism, so I nodded silently. Our noses bumped as I did, but she held her ground. After a few more seconds, the tension slackened in her shoulders and she took a half step back. “I’m glad we understand each other, Mr. Semmes. As for your question, there was another murder last night.”

  “Oh my, God. Who?” Cynthia asked.

  “Marsha Bering. I understand she was also an acquaintance of yours.”

  “Marsha? Oh, no, I just saw her a couple of days ago. I can’t believe it. How?” Cynthia asked.

  “Similar to the previous killing,” Biers said.

  “And that’s why you came here? I can’t believe Daniel accused us,” Cynthia said.

  “I can. He seemed really bitter about Cris breaking up with him,” I added.

  Biers shifted her gaze from me to Cynthia. “Thing is, he said he went to the scene of the murder with Cynthia and Cris. Lying to a federal officer is a felony. Do either of you wish to change your statement?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Agent Biers. If Cris or I had found Marsha murdered, we would have called the police. I mean, for heaven’s sake we found Jessica two nights ago and called the police immediately. Why would we suddenly try to hide the fact that we found Marsha?” Cynthia.

  “That’s one of the reasons I’m not hauling you both in for questioning.”

  “What’s the other?” Cynthia asked.

  “The scene showed no sign of anyone visiting it after the murder. Staff Sergeant Rigby took us to the site, but there was no sign that he or anyone else had been there.”

  “Strange, how would he have known about the murder if he hadn’t been there before?”

  “Good question, Cynthia,” I said. “You know, Agent Biers, Daniel was at the party the night before.”

  “I know, but Ms. Ronue’s cousin alibied him that night.”

  “But she won’t for last night. Hmmm,” I said.

  “Are you implying Doctor Ronue lied about his whereabouts the previous night?” Biers asked.

  Cynthia squeezed my fingers, hard. “No, he’s just messing with you again. My cousin would certainly not lie to the police. She’s a reputable psychologist. In her line of work, lying would be a handicap.”

  Biers didn’t seem convinced, but she let it drop. “All right then. That’s it for now, but you, Semmes.”

  “Yes, Agent Biers?”

  “Don’t leave town,” Biers added.

  “I’ve always wondered if police actually say that. Thank you for the warning, Agent Biers; I have no intention of going anywhere.”

  She left and a moment later, I heard the bell above the door. Had I heard it when she entered?

  Cynthia was staring up at me when I turned.

  “What?” I asked.

  �
��Why does she think you were in Castle Rock?”

  Not knowing just what I may have revealed in my earlier stupidity with the truth potion, I decided to stay close to the truth and said, “Because I was.”

  “And there were similar murders there this summer?”

  “Oh, no, nothing like similar. Several people had been torn limb from limb by a Sasquatch. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it. It made the odd news stories all over the place.”

  Her mouth widened into an “O.” “A Sasquatch? Really? Was that what it was?”

  Okay, lie time. “I never really got a good look at it, but that’s what all the witnesses described. I just happened to be with a group of people where the last murder occurred and the sheriff took down my name as a witness.”

  “And that’s all it was?”

  “Scout’s honor,” I said with three fingers held up.

  Cynthia turned away and let go of my hand. “Raphael, you need to tell Abigail what Marian did to you.”

  “Oh? You believe me now?” I asked.

  “Sure, you answered my questions.”

  “Cynthia, I can handle my own problems; I don’t need Abigail fighting for me.”

  “If she’d do that to you, she’ll do it again and the next time it might not be someone with your –”

  “Stamina?” I asked.

  She punched me in the ribs. “No, doofus. Moral clarity.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Moral clarity. It means someone who can have all manner of evil done to them and it doesn’t affect them because they know what’s right and what’s not.”

  “Hmm. Moral clarity. I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me.”

  She slugged me in the ribs again.

  “Ow. What’d I do to deserve that?”

  “You may have moral clarity, but you’re still a doofus,” she said.

  She came close, leaned into me, and kissed me. Eventually, she broke the kiss and eased away. “For a doofus, you kiss pretty well.”

  “But I need practice if I’m going to maintain my game,” I said and pulled her back into me.

  She laughed and gave me a quick peck. “Time for that later, we told Abigail we’d get this shipment into inventory.”

  “Okay,” I looked away, hesitant to ask what I needed to. “Ah, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “I think we’re in a personal question kind of relationship,” she said and picked up the invoice again.

  “The party Carl and Marian invited us to…”

  Cynthia didn’t look up from the invoice, but her fingers tightened against the paper. “Yes?”

  “It sounds like a key party. You know, where each man throws his keys into a bowl and the women—”

  “I know what a key party is,” Cynthia said, her voice was strained.

  “I gather you’ve been to parties at their place before?”

  “I used to be naïve,” she said.

  “No need to say more,” I said.

  “I was naïve, and Carl can be very flattering. They have an open marriage, or so they claim. Carl had me giddy in love with him for a while, but then I figured out what he was really like and...let’s just say I got over being naïve.”

  “Sounds like someone else has a case of moral clarity,” I said.

  She laughed. “I don’t know about that. My feelings were hurt for a long time, but I came to realize people are allowed to make mistakes, even college girls who ought to know better.”

  I went to her, took the invoice from her hands, and embraced her. She leaned her cheek against my chest and hugged me back. We stood that way for a few moments before I felt her grip relax. I released her and kissed her gently.

  “So, want me to kill him for you?” I asked.

  She laughed nervously and yanked the invoice from my hand. Her hand shook as she turned away from me. “Don’t tease me! Let’s get back to work before Abigail wonders what she’s paying us for.”

  I stared at her back. I hadn’t been teasing and, strangely enough, she knew it.

  CHAPTER 25

  Darkness found the two of us patrolling the south side of Huntsville on Beast. Cynthia had been adamant that she go with me when I tried to sneak off. I was confident that moonrise would bring a third sacrifice and I really didn’t want to have to protect Cynthia while fighting, but she wasn’t letting me out of her sight. What had I said under her potion’s control?

  Since the last two murders had occurred in the forests north and east of Huntsville, I expected the next to be either south or west of town. Many times a mage will hit the cardinal points around a location to work their magic, although in this case I suspected it was more their desire to make sure I wasn’t anywhere near the site. (I have a high opinion of myself, even if it’s not always warranted.) We were riding south on Whitesburg Avenue, skirting the numerous green belt areas that dotted south Huntsville We were operating under the assumption that since the mage had struck in the forest each previous night, she’d keep to the pattern.

  This time the source was west of our location and at least a couple of miles away. At that distance, I wouldn’t have noticed it until it was complete but for the strength of the summoning spell. I took the next right onto Airport Road and gave control over to Beast. It was still early evening. The traffic, while not bumper-to-bumper, was too thick for me to make the best time.

  I tapped the nearest ley line to top off my energy and prepared myself while Beast maneuvered into the center turn lane and roared between cars that appeared frozen in time.

  Cynthia’s grip on my waist tightened, and she shouted into my ear, “What’s happening?”

  “Another summoning. Hang on, we’re not too far away, maybe I can get there before they complete the spell.”

  “I should call Abigail.”

  “She can’t get there in time.”

  Beast roared through an intersection to the sound of tires squalling and horns blaring. We flashed between cars waiting under an overpass, busting somebody’s side mirror with the edge of Beast’s shield, crossed another intersection with similar results, and then were temporarily clear of traffic. The speedometer shot up to the stops, and then Beast braked sharply as he approached the next intersection. We leaned into the turn and took the ninety-degree corner at non-Newtonian speeds.

  “Oh, my God!” Cynthia shouted when we were upright again. “How’d you do that?”

  “Good tires,” I shouted back.

  Accelerating again, we bore down on a large parking lot surrounding the Joe W. Davis Stadium, home of the minor league team, the Huntsville Stars. The summoning was originating inside the stadium. Not exactly what I’d expected, but since the parking lot was empty, I guessed there wasn’t a home game tonight.

  Beast aimed us at the nearest entrance, which was blocked by a large chain link gate. I raised my left hand, made a fist, and triggered the tat. Lightning burst from a clear sky. It shattered the padlock and threw the gate back. We shot down a short tunnel and Beast’s roar echoed off the walls in deafening waves. Emerging above the lowest level of seats behind the first base line, I saw two figures standing on the pitcher’s mound. Both wore dark hooded cloaks just like the previous night. I was going to be in time. I sent more lightning into the backstop and guardrail. The nylon netting melted. A moment later, the metal railing incandesced, leaving a hole large enough for Beast to pass.

  “Hold on,” I yelled, but Cynthia had already seen what was coming and had a death grip on my waist.

  We left the stands among exploding sparks from the still molten guardrail and shot into space. I rose onto the peds as we dropped the five feet to the ground, but Beast hit lightly and slid sideways to stop beside home plate. Cynthia released her grip and was off Beast before I could order her away. I swung my right leg over Beast’s back and stepped clear.

  “There’s been enough of that,” I called out to the pair on the pitcher’s mound. I recognized the smaller figure as another of the
younger members of the coven. “Julie Fitzroy, come away from there.”

  The taller figure continued to chant and the air crackled with the buildup of energy.

  “Cynthia, when her circle drops, you get Julie. Take Beast and go to Abigail’s house. That’s the safest place for both of you.”

  “What? I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  “Damnit, Cynthia, there’s no time argue. Just do it.”

  I unwound my sling and took a cast-iron ball bearing from my pocket. I loaded it into the sling and started it spinning.

  The mage ignored my threat. Did she think she could finish the summoning before I killed her? If the summoning weren't completed correctly, the mage would have to start the whole thing over. It didn’t matter though. She wasn’t going to live long enough to complete the spell.

  I raised my left hand and triggered my favorite tat. Energy poured from the earth into my little iron ball.

  “Look out!” Cynthia screamed.

  I saw movement to my side. I released my bullet and turned to meet the threat.

  The remains of the backstop’s netting swirled down toward me. I kicked up my shield as it gathered around me and squeezed. For a moment, my shield held it away from me; then my shield collapsed tightly about my skin.

  That was different.

  I poured more energy into my shield, and the netting crept away from me.

  Who in hell was controlling this? The mage was still chanting the summoning. I was facing away from the pitcher’s mound and couldn’t tell if my shot had broken the circle or not, but there was no way the mage could keep up that chant and control the netting at the same time.

  “Cynthia, flame the netting,” I said.

  “But you’re inside,” she said from somewhere behind me.

  “Just do it.”

  A moment later, I heard her speak her trigger and flames washed over me. The nylon caught fire immediately, melted against my shield, and dripped to the turf as the flames devoured it.