Awakenings (29 page)

“Stop nagging. I’m the same age as you are.”

“Well I’m too old for this malarkey, too, but I wasn’t shot in the leg with an arrow,” she responded.

“That’s not going to be enough,” Cal said to them. “We need to really light this area up.”

“What about Rosencrantz?” Seth asked. “He just helped me out.” Seth held out his sludge-marked hands.

“Yes!” Lelani agreed. “Rosencrantz is an experienced mage, but he needs a conduit to cause effects in real time.” She went to the tree and placed both hands on its trunk. Lelani closed her eyes and began to commune with the great wizard. Seth couldn’t explain how, but he could see the tree’s life energy flow through the centaur, and he was sure the others could not. Even from a few feet away, Seth felt heat radiate from her, the same sensation he experienced earlier. Lelani was wrapped in a warm glow; a rosiness filled her cheeks, similar to what you’d see on an expecting mother. Seth had a bunch of tree-hugging friends that had often talked about the health benefits of communing with nature. He always thought they were cool in their own odd, crunchy way, but he never thought in a million years they’d ever be proven right.

“They are close,” Lelani said. “A large party approaches from the south, about three hundred yards. A mix of humans and gnolls. They have a sorcerer!”

Three whips of strong wind hit the lanterns and shattered them.

“Seth!” barked the cop.

What now?
Seth thought.

“Grab an armful of magazines from the trailer and start building piles about fifteen feet apart to the south of us. Douse them with kerosene.”

“Gee whiz, is that really necessary?” Ben whined.

“Ben!” Helen, scolded.

“What about the human dudes?” Seth asked. “Fire’s just going to help them see us.”

Helen was already in and out the trailer door with the first batch of magazines. “You always said these things would come in handy one day, Ben. Time to put them to good use, or we won’t be around to read anything no more.”

Ben picked up Helen’s shotgun and helped Cat cover her as she piled magazines.

Seth stood his ground. “Look, we should go back to the cabana in Puerto Rico and shut the door behind us. Cut off the conduit. No death, no mayhem … easy breezy.”

Cal grabbed the photographer by his collar and lifted him to within an inch of his face. “How do we get back then? Do we let them set up camp right beside Rosencrantz? What if they douse the tree with kerosene for helping us.” He threw Seth to the ground in disgust. “You going to let that old woman do all the work?”

Seth fumed. It wasn’t fair. He had risked his skin to help Ben get to safety. He had used a tree branch to fight these crossbow-wielding monsters while the cop was armed with pistols and wearing Kevlar.

“That’s right!” Seth shouted back at the cop. “She’s an old lady and he’s an old man with a hole in his fucking leg! You’re a dad with a kid in the Bronx and a wife with a busted ankle that’s scared out of her wits! How am I the fucking bad guy for saying we get the hell out of here?”

Cal was about to respond, but Seth yelled first, “Go fuck yourself.” He walked off muttering and took an armful of magazines from Helen for the fire.

Seth built up the pile that was farthest out from the trailer. He knew the bad guys were gathering out there in the dark, but he wanted to get it at least three feet high. As he stacked and rolled the magazines, his hand fell across a copy of
Action Comics
number one, the first appearance of Superman. The artist in him was awestruck. It was one of the most iconic images ever created. In the picture, Superman lifted a car over his head and smashed it into a rock. There were a few others, too.
Whiz Comics, Detective Comics …
Seth wrapped them around his shins and snapped his tube socks over them, securing them to his legs. He realized what an optimistic gesture that was in light of what was coming toward them. Then again, if he survived, he’d never forgive himself for passing up the opportunity.
A few less magazines isn’t going to make any difference in the end
.

Seth poured kerosene over the periodicals and lit his fire. He used a rolled-up issue of
Life
magazine from the 1940s to transfer the flame to the other piles Ben and Helen built. Four pyres in a line from west to east blocked the southern access to Rosencrantz and the trailer.

Cal surveyed the setup, then said, “Cat, how many rounds do you have?”

“Five.”

“Climb up Lelani’s back and take a position with the rifle in one of Rosencrantz’s lower branches.”

“Climb? Cal, I’m on one foot, and my arm still hurts from that arrow I took earlier.”

“I know it’s tough, honey, but gnolls are not good climbers. They’re evolved canines, not felines. And you can cover Lelani from up there so she can stay with the tree longer.” Cal looked to the caretakers. The temptation to send them back home was written all over his face. But he needed the old couple, and they wanted to help. “Helen, take a position in the doorway of the trailer. Ben, do you have a weapon?”

Ben reached into the trailer along the side of the doorway and produced a wood ax.

“Good,” said Cal. “Crouch by the trailer hitch.” Seth was impressed with Cal’s strategy. He placed the couple close enough to the trailer for them to escape in case things went wrong. “Get back and sever the link if you have to,” he told them. They both nodded
okay.

The flames were already six feet high. Light flooded the area between the trailer and the tree. Seth was grateful for the heat that dried out his damp clothes.

“We don’t have enough paper to keep this up too long,” Seth noted. “They might just wait for these pyres to die out.”

Cal considered this. “Lelani, where are they now?” he asked.

“They’ve stopped. About a hundred yards due south observing us; six gnolls and five humans. Rosencrantz and I have countered several spells from their mage already. They’re confused. Based on the rudimentary nature of their sorcerer’s spells, I don’t think they are even aware of Rosencrantz’s existence. It’s likely when they came to this reality, Dorn walked right past him and did not realize he was sentient.”

“That’s our advantage,” Cal said. “We need to go on the offensive. What I wouldn’t give for a pair of night-vision goggles.”

A light went on in Lelani’s eyes. “I have an idea along those lines,” she said. “But in the reverse … with Rosencrantz’s help, of course.” She closed her eyes and chanted, communing with the tree. The heat that emanated from her washed over them like a warm wind, and coursed into the woods beyond. Whatever this spell was, it was big. She released the tree and picked up her composite longbow and quiver.

“What are you doing?” Cat asked.

“Taking the battle to them.” Lelani searched the meadow for a sign.

“That’s suicide in the dark,” Seth said.

“Darkness is relative,” she said with a smile. “Sometimes you bring on the dark by turning up the light.”

“Have you lost your marbles?” Seth asked her.

“This entire meadow and parts of the forest are within Rosencrantz’s sphere of control.”

“So we’re going to ask Bambi to attack them for us?”

Lelani continued to search deeply into the night. “Seth, I will need you to stay in physical contact with Rosencrantz. He needs to be connected with one of us to effect change in real time.”

“Cat’s already in the tree,” Seth pointed out.

“Cat is not attuned to the magical energies flowing through this meadow. It has to be a mage.”

“I can’t do magic,” Seth argued. “I don’t remember going to school or anything.”

Lelani continued to search the darkness. “That doesn’t matter,” she said. “Once you are in a symbiotic connection with the tree, he will guide you. You are waiting for a particular spell I will cast once I’ve confronted their sorcerer. Rosencrantz will know what to do.” Her eyebrow arched and she pointed into the field. “There!”

“Where?” Seth asked.

“There.” A small speck of light, like a fallen star, meandered over a black section of the field.

“What is that?” Seth asked. Soon he noticed two more, and then several others—a convention of fireflies had been called. “Where’d the fireflies come from? It’s freakin’ winter.”

“He woke them up early,” Ben said. “He is a wizard, after all.”

It occurred to Seth that there might be a shortage of fireflies in the area this summer. He didn’t know why he had such stupid thoughts in light of what they were about to face—probably because he hoped to live long enough to see whether he was right. More flies poured in from the forest around them. Soon there were hundreds, then thousands, all convening around the enemy. Silhouettes in the shapes of men emerged in the glow.

“I can see them,” Cat said. She took aim with her rifle.

“Please hold your fire until they charge you,” Lelani said. With that, she bolted out into the night.

“What’s going on?” Helen said from the trailer.

“We might actually have a chance,” Cal said.

“Well, please explain it to us,” a confused Ben inquired.

“Yeah, do some ’splaining,” Seth agreed.

2

Lelani raced into the darkness and came to a stop at the snow line halfway between her friends and the strangers. She waited as the fireflies continued to grow in number. Her foes’ voices conveyed alarm. They swatted to no avail. The fireflies broke off into separate groups around each enemy combatant. They swarmed over each gnoll’s shoulder until a thick globe of swirling light hovered around each head. Now, the darkness served Lelani.

The centaur charged. She moved along the outskirts of the group, staying within the black of the meadow. She didn’t need to see her targets clearly. The swirls of light around their heads marked them well. As she galloped, she strung an arrow and let it loose toward the center of the light. She heard the satisfying thud and squeal of a struck gnoll. The fireflies dropped with the gnoll to the ground before dispersing back into the night. She strung a second arrow and let it loose into another bright swirl of flies. This thud was followed by the gurgle and hacking of a punctured throat.

The enemy, in a panic, let fly a squadron of bolts from their crossbows. The first volley dropped fallow as Lelani raced away protected by the dark. They launched a second wild volley covering a wider area. One quarrel found its mark and sank into her hindquarter. She had no time to pull it out. She flew around them launching arrows at will. Three gnolls dead … four. The remaining troop abandoned their equipment and ran toward the light at the center of the meadow … toward her friends. One man with a staff remained behind. She fired an arrow at him, which he easily deflected with the staff. He stood his ground blocking Lelani’s line of sight to his cohorts. But she was no longer interested in them. In the distance, Lelani heard the crack and echo of Cat’s rifle. Her allies would deal with that rabble. She came here for
him
.

The man let loose a flame from the tip of his staff that burned the remaining fireflies about him. In the light, she saw that he wore a white polyester leisure suit over a wide-collard shirt. He was swarthy, with a blocky build, long coarse black hair, obsidian eyes, and a thick salt-and-pepper mustache that hung like a horseshoe on a nail.
One of Kraten’s desert brethren, no doubt.
She aimed for his heart and let fly another arrow. With a wave, he burned it to a cinder before it touched him. He slammed his staff into the ground. A vibration emanated in a line toward the centaur, upturning snow and earth before finally knocking Lelani off her feet. She landed on the quarrel lodged in her rear; the serrated edges cut into the flesh around her wound. Lelani clenched her teeth through the pain.

She recovered, and vacated the spot a second before flame engulfed it. There was a crudeness to this sorcerer’s technique. He had clearly been wielding magic longer than she, but there was no polish to his method. He was a brawler … a street fighter who learned his craft in the dusty back alleys of some desert city. His spells were limited in scope—fire and kinetic movement only. He lacked subtlety and had little imagination.

“They send an acolyte to battle me!” he barked at her, in a southern dialect of Verakhoon. “I am K’ttan Dhourobi of Aht Humaydah. I have killed a dozen wizards. You have no hope against me, child.”

“And yet, four of your comrades are dead,” she answered back.

“I care not for
dog
-men.”

Lelani was sure they did not care for him either. She hoped there was a way her team could press that animosity toward their advantage … assuming they had a future after this night. Lelani pulled another arrow on her string and fired it. He deflected it easily. She had a good notion by now of his repertoire, his one-dimensional thinking. She needed to position him correctly to exploit these shortcomings. What worried Lelani was that she would have to cast two spells at once and drop her defensive posture. She was fairly sure that he would not counter with transmogrification and that she would not end up a cockroach, crushed under foot. It would be flame or flying knives …
a survivable risk.

He cast a wall of vibration against her. The air between them shimmered, cracked, and boomed from circular vacuums shooting toward her like a tsunami. She got her hands up in time to counter the attack, but it pushed her back several feet, even with her digging into the cold hard ground.

“Defensive spells have their place, acolyte, but they are only half a battle,” K’ttan Dhourobi said. “To win, you must attack! Consider this final lesson a gift.”

Arrogant windbag.
Lelani launched a half-dozen phosphorous spheres at him, which he dissipated with the fire from his staff. Flame and sparks erupted between them like a celebration. Immediately, Lelani cast her second spell and threw it wide. It bypassed K’ttan Dhourobi, and went toward the middle of the meadow. She prayed Seth remained with the tree. It would be her end if he didn’t.

Even as she finished casting her spell, Dhourobi had already cast his response, a spell she knew well called
Sentient Wind
. Every dirk, dagger, throwing star, and arrow within his vicinity suddenly flew at her.
Knives it is,
Lelani mused as she tried to avoid them. A throwing star grazed her temple, leaving a long gash that bled into her eyes. A dagger sunk deep into the right side of her lower belly, arrows lodged into her right leg and deltoid, and a dirk shattered her right clavicle. Lelani’s scream filled the woods.