Moonshine Wizard

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  The sounds of the battle started to fade and he knew he was slipping. It wouldn’t be long.

  A roar tore through his mind, forcing him back to reality. It wasn’t a human scream, nor was it the bark of a dog. It wasn’t a clown’s laugh or Farrah’s cackle. It wasn’t Ozark. This was something different, a uniquely terrifying roar that sent chills down the spine of any creature who heard it. Unmistakably, it was the sound only one living creature on Earth could’ve made.

  A shadow fell across Howard’s face and the Alpha looked up, his arrogance replaced with terror. A massive form shot forward, and Howard disappeared under a mass of dark brown fur.

  The were-dogs holding Bert released him and scattered, barking in a mix of terror and anger. Bert was scared as well, but forced himself to his feet anyway and turned to watch, his fears confirmed.

  Hunter the were-bear rose to his full height and roared into the night sky. The sound was deafening, drowning out the surrounding cries of battle. This time he’d transformed completely. There was nothing remotely human left, just the giant hulking form of a grizzly.

  Beneath his right foot, Howard the Alpha tried to wriggle free, screaming and changing forms, looking for any chance to get away. There wasn’t any.

  The pack forgot about Bert and moved in to try to save their leader. Their horde might’ve been able to drag down a regular grizzly with their sheer numbers, but Hunter wasn’t a regular grizzly.

  Howard thought himself powerful. Well, tonight he’d learn, Bert thought. The were-dogs weren’t true lycans, and in their dog forms, they were just dogs. Hunter, on the other hand, was an honest to God lycan, and in his bear form, he wasn’t just a grizzly. He was a damn near indestructible beast with magical energy off the charts. He was a living nightmare. And right then, he looked really pissed off.

  The were-dogs charged in at once, trying to catch Hunter off guard. His massive claws went to work, batting them away like they were nothing. His teeth sunk into the head of a pit bull. There was a crunch and with the flip of his neck he sent the dog flying into the air. His claws raked the side of a German Shepherd, breaking its ribs and knocking it to the side with a yelp. A swipe with his other hand nearly decapitated a Chow.

  Bert summoned his staff and hurled lightning bolts at a nearby pack of dogs. He wanted to help Hunter, but he didn’t want to risk pissing off the were-bear, and his friend really didn’t need any help.

  In a matter of moments, the pack was fleeing, their tails tucked between their legs.

  Howard screamed at his pack, begging them to come back. Then he started to cry. As he wept openly, he locked eyes with Bert and reached a hand toward him, pleading, “Please wizard, have mercy! Save me!”

  Hunter the were-bear roared again, shouting his victory across the meadow. His giant head looked down toward the weeping man stuck beneath his foot and he roared once more.

  Then he ate Howard’s face.

  Howard’s screams died away, along with his ‘alpha’ status, as Hunter literally ripped him into pieces. When he was done, there was nothing left of the former pack leader.

  Hunter turned and looked at Bert, and he felt a shudder run down his spine. Last time, Hunter had lost all control and tried to kill him. If this scenario played out the same way, Bert was dead. There was nothing he could do to stop him this time.

  Instead of eating Bert’s face, Hunter nodded at him, turned, ran across the field, and mauled one of Nero’s wizards. Then he ate his face. After that, he pounced a nearby vampire, started to eat its face, then spit it out. Apparently, Hunter the were-bear did not like vampire face.

  Bert sighed with relief. He didn’t know how his friend did it, but this time, he was at least somewhat in control. Enough that he could differentiate between friend and foe. That was good enough for Bert. In fact, it was, as Uncle tony had pointed out, a goddamned blessing.

  He glanced toward the Hand of Magic. They were steadily carving a path across the field, decimating everything in their way. The group of vampires they’d surprised were all dead or scattered. The entire battlefield was chaos again, but now, there were more dead than living and the size of the fray was deteriorating rapidly. It was almost over, and they were winning.

  He turned and bumped into Lilith. Her eyes met his, but before he could speak, her gaze moved past him. He spun, swiping Sharp through the neck of a straggling were-dog. Lilith hurled a ball of purple power into a vampire, knocking him from his feet.

  A hipster attacked, casting a burst of raw energy. Bert blocked, then spun around Lilith to fire a lightning bolt at charging vampire. Following his momentum, he rolled back around Lilith and threw Sharp at the hipster, plunging the blade into the mage’s chest.

  Spinning toward her, he used one hand to pull her into him, kissing her on the lips. His other hand caught Sharp as the he summoned the blade back to him.

  Her eyes opened in surprise, but she returned the kiss, then he spun away from her and fired a lightning bolt at an approaching were-dog.

  He glanced back to see if she was still looking his way.

  She was.

  And so was Dasfarus.

  He appeared out of thin air just behind her, and before Lilith could react, he grabbed her by the throat and they both disappeared.

  Chapter 48

  Bert scanned the battlefield, looking for any sign of Lilith or Dasfarus. They were nowhere in sight. He took down a charging vampire, slicing his sword through the suck-face’s neck almost absentmindedly, his eyes still searching.

  Finally, they reappeared near the cliff wall where Bert had first addressed his enemies. Dasfarus stood with his back to the wall, still holding Lilith by the throat. He met Bert’s gaze and grinned, taunting him.

  Bert called out to his friends. Robert was closest, and when Bert had his attention he pointed toward Dasfarus. Robert took one look at the dark wizard and shook his head. “That guy will kill you, Bert.”

  “And he’ll kill Lilith if I don’t go over there,” Bert said. “He wants the key.”

  “What key?” Robert asked. “What’s this all about?”

  “I don’t know,” Bert said, shrugging. “I have it, but I don’t know what it is. There isn’t time to think this through. I have to go before he kills her.”

  Robert scowled for a moment, then gave Bert a solemn nod. “I’ll make you a path.”

  Robert paused for a moment, summoning energy, then he hurled a massive blast of raw energy across the field, knocking clear Bert’s path to Dasfarus.

  He returned Robert’s nod and ran for it. Any enemy who dared get in his way was either struck down with lightning or met Sharp’s business end. Play time was over.

  He slowed his pace as he approached Dasfarus, and the dark wizard said, “The key, Waylon. Or she dies.”

  “Okay,” Bert said. “I don’t give a shit about the key. You can have the damn thing.”

  “No, Bert!” Lilith cried, but her voice cut off as Dasfarus tightened his grip on her throat.

  Bert pulled the white thorn from his pocket. He still didn’t know what it was for, but in his gut, he knew giving it to Dasfarus was a bad idea. He didn’t care. It was his only chance to save Lilith. Maybe the bastard would let her go. It was his only chance.

  Without giving it a second thought, he tossed the key to Dasfarus.

  Before he caught it, Lilith turned and rammed her knee between Dasfarus’s legs. He lost his grip and doubled over, unprepared for the physical attack. Lilith shot forward and caught the key.

  She tried to run toward Bert, but Dasfarus raised his staff and Lilith stopped in her tracks, caught by some unseen force. Her eyes met Bert’s for only a moment, and then she went flying backward, smashing against the rock wall with a sickening crack. Her body fell to the ground limp, blood pouring down the side of her face.

  A terrible screamed ripped from his lungs, and Bert was running, charging toward Dasfarus. His rage got the better of him. He ran at the bastard with everything he had, hell bent on exact
ing his revenge.

  Dasfarus glanced up at him, almost casually. As Bert closed the distance between them, Dasfarus raised his staff and tipped it in Bert’s direction. A wave of energy smashed into his face, stopping him like he’d run straight into a brick wall. Then he was tumbling end over end, spiraling backward and skidding across the blood-soaked grass. His body shuddered with each bounce, until finally, he came to a stop.

  Numb pain coursed throughout his body, and Bert couldn’t move. Slowly he raised his head, watching as Dasfarus started toward Lilith.

  Time slowed down as he watched the dark wizard stroll toward the broken body of the woman he loved. From his peripherals, he saw a clown appear and start toward him, taking this opportunity to finish him off. A blood-matted were-dog charged him as well. And one of the ninja-clad Bombers. They’d seen what happened. They knew he couldn’t fight back. Not after that. The battle still raged on, but it was already won. The Hand of Magic would soon wash the field of all hostile forces, but in this moment, Bert, the bastard of a wizard they all wanted to kill, was lying helpless on the ground. An easy target.

  And Dasfarus would kill Lilith. Bert cursed his wrecked body, begging it for just a little more strength. He screamed but couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear anything save a dull, hollow drumming in his own head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought he heard Sharp calling his name. His head felt heavy and his eyelids begged to be shut. Goddamn he was tired. His enemies were closing in. Dasfarus was almost to Lilith.

  He dug deep, deeper than he could’ve thought possible. Hunting for some inner strength, desperately trying to bring it to the surface. He strained every muscle. He felt the dirt beneath his hands. The smell of death entered his nostrils. The ringing in his ears subsided and the sounds of battle took over. Magical energy coursed through his veins. He was awake, alive, and ready to kick ass.

  He’d never been good at casting through his hands. Few mages were. But this time, he had no choice. He fired a spell, launching his body up into a barrel roll while summoning his staff and sword to his hands. In mid-spin, he swung Sharp through the neck of the clown and fired a lightning bolt at the lunging were-dog. Neither were prepared for the sudden attack.

  He landed in a crouch and spun, slicing Sharp through the ninja’s leg and firing another lightning bolt at an approaching vampire, then rose and decapitated the ninja. He ran forward and threw Sharp into the forehead of a vampire. The sword sunk to its hilt, then reversed and shot back to Bert’s hand while he fired a force spell at another were-dog, knocking it out of his way.

  And he was too late. Dasfarus reached toward Lilith.

  Lilith’s eyes shot open and her lips moved, speaking some secret words of power. She raised the key and a light burst forth, staggering Dasfarus and blinding everyone in the meadow. It was like staring into an eclipse. Bert forced his eyes away, wondering if he’d be able to see again. One thing was for sure… Lilith had just activated the key. Maybe he’d find out what door it opened after all.

  Above Lilith, a circle of light appeared in front of the rock wall, like someone had brought a projector. The light spun, like swirling mist. It was a portal, Bert realized. A doorway to another planet.

  The entire battlefield settled into quiet stillness as everyone watched the spectacle manifest. All of them, friends and foes, stood side by side, watching as the doorway opened above them.

  The mist began to clear and Bert caught sight of a purple sky, peppered with black clouds and a steady rhythm of violet lightning. As the image cleared, he saw the terrace of a dark tower. Then another, and another, until the mist had completely dissipated and the portrait revealed the distant walls of a dark castle. Its walls were black like the stuff of nightmares, its many jagged towers jutting defiantly into that violent sky.

  Their view was from a stone bridge, leading toward the fortress of darkness, and though he couldn’t fairly judge the distance, row after row of people walked toward the black gates. As far as he could see, they marched, hundreds, maybe thousands, all of them clothed in dark robes, their hoods pulled up and their backs to the portal.

  As if on cue, they stopped, and in a single motion, they all turned toward the gateway. A sea of a thousand hooded faces stared back at him, and it only took a moment for the sickening realization to hit home… They were looking at him. They were looking back through the gateway. At him. At his friends. At his enemies. At the bloody battleground surrounding him.

  And there was no doubt what they were. No question. He could feel their power radiating through the portal. He could feel their energy, unlike anything he’d ever sensed.

  Dark wizards.

  Every goddamned one of them.

  Fear struck his heart like a knife. This wasn’t some rogue group of wizards like Nero and his hipsters. This wasn’t a secret gaggle of murderous clowns. This was an army of darkness. The Hand of Magic preached that no such force could exist without their knowledge. Yet, here it was.

  A sick feeling crawled through his gut as another realization struck him. This wasn’t just a fortress. It was a training facility. A place where they taught wizards the dark arts. Where they tempted them with forbidden crafts. Where they showed them the path to black magic.

  And what were they thinking? Surely, they saw the carnage around him. Surely, they were every bit as curious about what they were seeing as he was. And a better question, he realized: how many were there? He could see far too many to count. How many more were there that he couldn’t see? Thousands? Millions? How could such a place exist?

  A single hooded figure appeared at the edge of the portal, and Bert’s felt the man’s eyes on him, staring back in silent regard. His face was hidden but he radiated power unlike anything Bert could’ve imagined. The hood shifted slightly, and Bert got the sense that he was studying the battlefield. Assessing the carnage. Finally, his eyes drifted downward, toward the bloodied form of Lilith, still holding the key. He stared at her for a moment, and then he came through.

  He didn’t step, but floated through the portal and hovered above Lilith. He snapped his fingers and two more hooded figures came through behind him. They dropped down beside Lilith and one of them took the key from her. She didn’t fight. The other moved alongside her and lifted her body from the ground. Still, she didn’t struggle and hung limp in his arms. They turned back toward the portal.

  Bert heard someone scream and a moment later, realized it was him. And he was moving, running toward the dark robed figures and summoning power.

  The hovering man’s hooded face tilted toward him. He raised his hand and Bert felt the magical energy shift all around him as the man beckoned it to his command. Like summoning the wind, all the surrounding energy rushed toward the man. He was about to cast the biggest spell Bert had ever seen. Bigger than he could imagine. Big enough to kill everyone in the meadow, he realized. Of course. There could be no witnesses. They couldn’t risk word of them getting around. He’d kill every last one of them.

  Bert charged forward, throwing everything he had at the man, knowing it was useless as he did it. The man didn’t even acknowledge his attacks. He just continued gathering energy.

  Bert cursed, drew his gun, and fired. Nothing. It was all useless. He glanced behind him, trying to spot Carter. No one else attacked. It was as though they were mesmerized by the spectacle.

  Had it all been for nothing? After everything they’d been through, would he and his friends die anyway? Would he lose Lilith to the dark wizards after all? His death would be quick. Lilith’s wouldn’t. What tortures awaited her at the hands of these living monsters?

  Something in Bert snapped. As he watched the hooded figures taking her away, something within him crumbled and fell apart, as though it were breaking free. Like a dam bursting open. All he could see was red. He felt the anger boiling inside him, growing hotter with each labored breath. His body trembled and he felt the heat rise, pushing from within, begging to be released from the prison of his flesh. Rage burned in
his mind. The fire swelled in his heart.

  For the third time in his life, the flames broke free. He didn’t know how. He didn’t know why. And this time, he really didn’t give a shit. He just wanted to save Lilith. He just wanted to save his friends. He pushed the flames toward the portal, toward the hooded figure carrying Lilith. The man dropped her and fell back screaming as the fire took hold and spread, consuming him. The man carrying the key met the same fate.

  The leader remained unconcerned, still preparing his spell.

  Bert’s rage grew and he pushed his flames toward the man, hammering them against his shield and shattering it. The man leapt back as the flames licked the side of his face, his jaw hanging open in surprise. He growled in defiance and shoved his arms forward, casting his spell.

  Bert’s flames met the man’s spell in a violent eruption, shaking the ground and lighting up the night sky, but it held. His flames held the spell in check, not allowing it to manifest into its full capacity for destruction.

  He pushed harder, throwing everything he had into it. He couldn’t hold the spell forever, and when it went off, somehow, he knew it would be massive, like an atomic bomb. It wouldn’t hit his friends. He wouldn’t allow it.

  Then the man’s spell started inching backward and Bert fought on. Howling with rage and fury, he called on every last reserve of his will and pushed it back, forced it back into the gateway.

  Then he let go.

  Beneath the portal, Lilith’s still form lay on the ground. He caught one last fleeting glimpse of her, then he heard a concussive boom, like a bomb going off, and was blinded by light once more.

  Then all he saw was darkness. The door closed. The gateway was gone. Bert passed out.