The Memphis Knights

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  They didn’t.

  Instead, they simply reformed in a pack and started toward us again.

  “Done with that plan yet?” I asked.

  “Not quite,” Axel replied.

  Then to hell with it, I thought. I wasn’t about to have my head smashed in because Axel had a soft spot for giant hairy mythical monsters.

  Sensing what I planned to do, my sword transformed from a katana into a throwing knife. I drew back my arm and hurled it, end over end, at the bugbear directly in front of me.

  Just before impact, Drynwyn transformed into a medieval style long sword and slammed home in the goblin’s shoulder. It buried all the way to the hilt. The bugbear screamed, dropped his weapon, and fell to the floor clutching his injury.

  The other two halted their approach and studied their injured comrade.

  I looked over and realized that Axel was glaring at me.

  “What?” I asked. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Not cool, man,” Axel said, shaking his head. “Not cool.”

  “You finished with that plan yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then shut up.”

  Injuring their companion only pissed the other two off more. They charged again. The one with the stop sign shield came after me. The other went for Axel.

  I summoned my sword back and the injured bugbear screamed again as the blade wrenched itself free. It sped past the charging bugbear and back to my hand.

  I threw it again.

  The oncoming bugbear froze in his tracks and raised his stop sign shield. My blade slammed home near the top of the ‘O’, missing the arm that held the shield.

  Seeing his opportunity, the bugbear recommenced his charge, trying to catch me unarmed, save for my staff.

  I summoned my sword back to me again and it jumped free of the shield.

  Sensing the immediate danger of my much larger opponent, the sword began to stretch and elongate. By the time it reached my hand, Drynwyn had become a ridiculously over-sized, video-game style buster sword.

  The charging bugbear’s eyes widened as he took account of the massive sword in my hand. He tried to backpedal.

  I charged forward and swung. Despite the size of my sword, it maintained its normal weight and balance, meaning I could still strike quick.

  The bugbear jumped back, but not before my blade sliced through the bottom half of its shield. Also, he hit the top his head on the cave ceiling, which made me smile. I was never one to sneer at the little victories.

  He eyed me warily then, unsure how to press his attack.

  A few feet away, Axel played keep away with the other bugbear. Dodging in and out of its attacks. A single strike would’ve done my friend in for good, but he danced around in total bliss. He was having the time of his life.

  The third, injured bugbear rose to his feet and tossed his shield aside. With his good arm, he picked up his cement-block-on-a-pole and rejoined the fray.

  We were out of options. It was us or them. I decided it would be them. I’d have to hate myself for it later. Right then, I wasn’t prepared to watch my best friend get killed. Nor was I particularly interested in having my own head smashed in. The bugbears had to die.

  Then another figure appeared from the entryway tunnel and the fighting paused as everyone took notice. He wore a black suit with a red tie and an asshole’s smile.

  Parker Grimm.

  “Wyatt,” he said in a casual tone. “We need to talk.”

  “Uh, okay,” I said, glancing between the goblins and Parker. “I happen to be a little busy at the moment, though.”

  “So, I see,” the Shamus said. “Do you think you could hurry it along?”

  “Um, no,” I replied. “But you’re welcome to chip in if you’re in that big of a hurry.”

  “Fine.” Parker sighed and started forward.

  The bugbear who’d been hell bent on killing me turned his sights on Parker. Maybe he just looked like a weaker foe on account of not having a magical sword. Or, maybe the bugbear just thought Parker had a face that warranted smashing. Lord knows the thought had crossed my mind, on occasion.

  The bugbear charged.

  Parker didn’t even break stride, but as the goblin closed in his hand shot upward. As it did, I caught the faintest glint of his chrome plated wand. Then bright white light took shape around his fist and moment later he held war hammer made of pure white energy.

  The bugbear never had a chance.

  Parker took a single swing and the giant goblin was lifted right of the ground. It crashed back to the earth with a heavy thud and didn’t move.

  The other two bugbears glanced at their napping comrade and then shifted their gaze between the three of us. They were outnumbered then, and one was injured.

  “We surrender,” one of them said.

  Parker’s magical mallet disappeared, and he crossed his arms, all while fixing the bugbears with a disapproving glare. “Does your mother know where you are?”

  The two bugbears shared a concerned look and they seemed to shrink a little. Finally, one of them said, “No.”

  “So, this is how you act after your father passes away?” he asked, shaking his head. “Your mother is at home worried sick and you three idiots decide to take this opportunity to what? Go on a rampage? You’re lucky the Blade Mage didn’t decide to put you out of your damned misery.”

  The goblins didn’t reply.

  “Well?” Parker said, still pressing. “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

  Another moment passed and the injured one said, “We’re mourning.”

  “By acting like damned fools?” Parker said. “Pick your big brother up and take your dumb asses back home before you get hurt. Or do you not think your poor mother has been through enough without having to bury her dip-shit sons too?”

  The bugbears lowered their heads and moved toward the unconscious third.

  Axel moved alongside me then, and in a low voice I asked, “Did you know about this?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, they’re just angsty teens, basically. Why’d you think I told you not to kill them?”

  I almost hit him.

  Instead, I refrained, gritted my teeth, and said, “That would’ve been good to know earlier.”

  “It wasn’t obvious?”

  “No, it wasn’t,” I said and sighed.

  As the bugbears started toward the door, Parker said, “Hold on.”

  They paused and turned back toward him.

  In the same reproachful ‘dad’ tone, Parker said, “Thank the Blade Mage for not killing you.”

  The bugbears stared at each other, as though they were trying to decide if they should just attack again. Then, like sour children, they looked at me and said, “Thank you, Blade Mage.”

  “Fucking teenagers,” I said, shaking my head.

  As the bugbears disappeared back up the tunnel, Parker walked over our way. “You have time to talk now?”

  “Back at my place,” I said. “It’s only a thirty-minute drive.”

  I could only imagine the scowl on the Shamus’s face, as I didn’t wait around to see it.

  ***

  I wondered what Parker Grimm wanted this time. He certainly hadn’t come to tell me I’d won the lottery, nor did I believe he was stopping by on a friendly visit. Chances were, he’d come to tell me something I didn’t want to hear.

  Back at the house, I left him outside while I went in to change clothes. I had a sticky and stinky patch of cow blood on my chest. I’d have happily made him wait while I showered as well, but unfortunately, my little cabin only had one bathroom. Axel had beat me to it.

  I sighed and stepped back out onto the porch where Grimm waited.

  There was a black SUV parked in the drive alongside my old beater. A couple of Cabal tough guys waited for him in the vehicle, as if he needed their support. I wondered if they knew they were just aesthetics.

  “Parker Grimm,” I said, forcing an obviously fake grin. “Always a pleasure
to see my least favorite Shamus.”

  “Wyatt Draven,” he replied. I noticed he didn’t return my smile. “My least favorite Blade Mage.”

  “Hey, you only know like two of us.”

  “Yeah, and I liked Byron better.”

  I shrugged. It was a fair point. Byron was pretty cool.

  “So, how have you been?” he asked. “Staying out of trouble?”

  “I feel like that’s a loaded question,” I replied, crossing my arms. “Look, I know why you’re here… I was hired to find a missing young woman. Her parents thought she’d been kidnapped. When I got there, I thought the were-critters were killing her. Honest. I had no idea that… Well, no one go hurt. Not severely, anyway.”

  “Is that what you think I’m here about?” he asked, scoffing. “You think the Archmage sent me down here because you busted up a were-creature orgy?”

  “The Archmage sent you?” I asked, sighing. That only confirmed my suspicion. I definitely wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to tell me. But if it wasn’t about the orgy I ruined…

  “We need your help, Wyatt,” he said, cutting to the chase. “I need you to come with me to the compound outside Memphis.”

  We stared at each other for a few moments, before I finally managed to say, “Uh, what?”

  “I need you to come with me to Memphis.”

  “No, not that part,” I said, holding up a finger. “The bit before that. What did you say?”

  He glared at me.

  I waited.

  With a sigh, he repeated, “We need your help.”

  “That’s strange,” I said, playing up the faux-confusion. “Last I remember, I was ordered to stay out of Cabal business. In fact, the Archmage made it pretty clear he didn’t want me around at all.”

  “Well, now he’s ordered me to come pick you up.” He turned back toward the SUV for a moment then shook his head. “Do you always have to be a pain in the ass?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied. “I’m not the Archmage’s lapdog. That’s your job, Shamus. Not mine.”

  I realized I was letting my anger get the better of me. But come on. The nerve of these jerks. They wanted me to keep out of their business, right up until they needed the Blade Mage for something, then I should drop everything and come running. Not that I had a lot going on, but that wasn’t the point.

  “What is this time?” I asked. “You want me to kill another of my best friends?”

  “It’s nothing like that,” he replied. “It’s not a big deal, really. It’ll just take a few days and you’ll be back home. You’ll be compensated well.”

  “I don’t want the Cabal’s money.”

  Parker looked past up at the guttering, which was about to fall off the side of the roof. Then his eyes slid to my old beat up truck, and finally back to me. “Yeah, clearly you’re doing pretty well.”

  “Fuck off,” I said, turning to head back into the house.

  “Don’t you want to at least hear what the job is?”

  I paused. The angry side of my brain wanted to continue marching, but I held myself back. Some part of me did want to know. Even if I wanted to deny it, I felt my sword pulse against my back. It was encouraging me to listen.

  I turned back toward him. “Speak quickly.”

  “You’re familiar with the Memphis Knights?”

  “Heard of them,” I said, shrugging. “Never met any. They’re like a Templar motorcycle gang or something, right? They police the supernatural in Memphis.”

  “Motorcycle ‘club’ is the proper term,” Parker said, nodding. “They hold down Memphis. We’ve managed a good working relationship with them over the years.”

  “And now?”

  “It’s been a bit rocky as of late,” Parker said, shrugging. “As you know, we don’t have the resources we once had. We haven’t been in a position to help them as much. It’s made things a little tense.”

  “And?”

  “And now their leader has been murdered and they believe a mage did it.”

  “So, send in a strike team or a Shamus to investigate.”

  “That’s the problem,” he said, shaking his head. “We had a team stationed in Memphis already. They’ve booted them out. They said if any our mages get involved, they’ll see it as an act of war. They don’t want any Cabal wizards in the city until the murderer is caught.”

  “Okay, so what does this have to do with me?” I asked. Somehow, I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

  “They’ve made one exception,” he said, crossing his arms. “They want the Blade Mage.”

  “What the hell do they think I’m going to do?”

  “Your job,” he said, allowing his own anger to flare. “You might not realize this, but that is the Blade Mage’s job. It’s your role to hunt down dark wizards.”

  “You mean the role the Archmage specifically doesn’t want me to fulfill?”

  “Oh, get over it, already. So dramatic.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  Parker stared at me for several long seconds, then finally said, “Then I guess we lose our relationship with the Knights. It’ll be harder for them to deal with magical threats and we won’t have them to back us up if we face any demonic threats, however unlikely. Though I’m sure you remember our pal, the Abasy?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “So, we’ll lose a major ally and their support against the things that go bump in the night. Both groups will be stretched thinner and more innocent Normans will be at risk. More people will die, Wyatt. That’s what will happen.”

  “Who’s being dramatic, now?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  We stared at each other for several long seconds.

  Finally, I heard myself say, “Give me a minute to pack a bag.”

  As I turned back inside, he said, “One more thing, Wyatt.”

  “Yeah?” I asked over my shoulder as I reached for the door.

  “Axel can’t come with you. The Archmage forbids it and the Knights only want the Blade Mage.”

  “Okay, but you have to tell him.”

  “The hell I do,” Parker said, walking back toward the vehicle. “I’ll be waiting in the truck. You break the news.”

  “Asshole,” I muttered as I went inside.

  ***

  I was stuffing clothes in my bag when Axel poked his head into my room and asked, “Hey, did you know Parker Grimm is still outside?”

  “Yeah,” I replied without looking up at him.

  “Is he going to leave soon?” he asked. “I just ate some shrooms and was about to meditate. I’d rather not have a real adult around for that. Makes me paranoid.”

  This made me turn to look at him. “You took shrooms?”

  “Yup.”

  “Like, magic mushrooms?”

  “Yup,” he said, then raised an eyebrow. “It was purely for magical research, Wyatt.”

  “Wait... Is that why I could hear you giggling through the walls of your bedroom last night? I was starting to worry, but just not enough to go in there.”

  “Best you didn’t,” he replied. “I never where clothes when I do meditation mushrooms.”

  “Yup, that’s a rabbit hole I don’t want to go down,” I replied, zipping up my bag. I threw the strap over my shoulder and turned to face my friend.

  “Wait,” he said, eyeing me suspiciously. “You have a bag over your shoulder.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “So,” he said, crossing his arms. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “I can’t begin to guess what you might be thinking,” I replied, shaking my head. “It means I’ve agreed to go with Parker.”

  “Oh, that’s not what I was thinking at all,” he said, nodding at me. He turned to walk out of the room. “I’ll just grab my things, then.”

  “Axel,” I said, pausing as he disappeared around the corner. “You can’t come with me this time.”

  His head reappeared around the door frame. “Hey, sh
ould I bring some of the mushrooms? I think mindfulness meditation could do you a lot of good. Plus, it’s a lot more fun when the walls start crawling.”

  “Axel, did you hear me?”

  “We should stop on the way and get some marshmallows. Oh, and we’ll want some Pink Floyd to listen to. It really enhances the experience.”

  For a moment, I thought about explaining to him that whatever he was doing, it wasn’t meditation, but what the hell did I know? Maybe he could teach the monks something. Either way, it was beside the point.

  “Axel, you can’t go with me,” I said.

  “Uh, what?” he asked, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I can’t take you with me.”

  “But that...” his voice trailed off and a hurt look crossed his features. “That means you’re going without me.”

  I stared at him, unsure what to say.

  “As in, you’re not taking me with you,” he said. He looked like he was about to cry. “But then, who’ll watch your back?”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I said. “It’s just for a couple of days.”

  The look on his face resembled the look on a dog’s face when their owner walks out the front door with a suit case. I felt oddly bad about it. Fucking Axel.

  “Look,” I said, “you’ve got the place to yourself for a few days. You can continue practicing your meditation in peace.”

  “Sure, yeah,” he said, turning away. “It’ll be fine.”

  “It’s the Archmage’s orders. Otherwise, I’d want you to come.”

  He turned back. “Do you think my father had any input?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And why are you going?” he asked, a thoughtful look on his face.

  “Because someone has to, and apparently, I’m the only one who can.”

  “That’s not true,” he said, shaking his head despite having no details. “Why are you still lying to yourself? You want to help.”

  “No,” I said. “They’re only interested involving me when it’s convenient for them. I don’t have a place at the table.”

  “So, eat on the floor,” he said, shrugging. “They can’t really stop you. I ignore their orders all the time.”