The Seventh Mountain (31 page)

“Me, too. Only, I flunked out in my last
year. Couldn’t get the hang of remanifesting. Never could convince
myself that I wanted to be someplace that I wasn’t. I always wanted
to be right where I was. Man, I miss it. He’s going to have a lot
of fun.”

The rest of the day was spent putting things
away. The house was so large that it still seemed empty when
everything was put into its proper place. All of the kitchenware
barely filled two upper and two lower cabinets. One single bedroom
closet could have accommodated every bit of clothing that they all
had.

Steve pulled out a tape measure and checked
the distance from floor to ceiling. It was ten feet. That would be
tall enough for a fairly large Christmas tree. There were a couple
hundred acres of woods that the timber company hadn’t gotten to
yet. That would probably provide the tree.

The next day the entire family went looking
for a Christmas tree. They found one all right, nine feet tall and
six feet wide at the lowest branches. It looked just right in the
living room. They had to go to the store for more lights and
decorations. What they already had just wasn’t enough.

The decorations that they had just could not
do justice to this monster of a Christmas tree. Keepsakes from
James and Mark’s childhood looked almost lost among the branches.
The new lights and garlands hung alongside them, making them look
almost like strangers in a crowd, but soon it all looked merry,
like Christmas should look.

Christmas Eve came and filled the house with
the sweet smells of evergreen, turkey, fresh bread, pumpkin pie,
cinnamon apples and gingerbread cookies. Steve had invited the
Newsome’s over for Christmas Eve dinner. He and Shirley wanted to
return the hospitality that the Newsome’s had shown them.

Christmas morning finally arrived. Four
identical, very large, brightly wrapped boxes stood in front of the
tree, each one labeled with a family member’s name.

Mark and James came running downstairs at
the crack of dawn.

“Whoa, look at that.” James examined the
large boxes in front of the tree. He tried to pick his up and
failed. “What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s open them.”

“We should wait for mom and dad.”

“Okay, let’s check out the stockings.”

The stockings contained the usual things,
nuts, oranges, small boxes of chocolate-covered nuts and raisins
and a couple of small gifts.

Mark and James were sitting in front of the
tree enjoying some of the treats from the stocking when the camera
flashed. Nobody noticed the hooded figure that looked in from the
porch window. The usual Christmas pictures were being taken this
year by their dad on one of his rare Christmases at home. That

was something that both boys were glad would
happen every Christmas from now on, since Steve was officially out
of the military.

“Good morning, boys. Your mom will be down
in a minute and then you can tear into those packages.”

Both sons said at once, “Good morning, Dad.
Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Steve took a seat at the
dining room table after putting a few logs on the smoldering embers
in the fireplace. They caught and began to fill the room with
warmth.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Mom.” Their mom was coming
down the stairs, but both boys turned to look at their dad.

Steve waited for Shirley to make it to the
table. “Go for it.”

The paper came off their boxes in an
instant, and they were flung open to reveal western style
saddles.

They looked at Steve. “Horses?”

“Not yet, but they’re coming this
spring.”

Mark said, “That’s great, I love
horses.”

James nudged Mark. “Yeah, maybe you can
teach me to ride like a Magi!”

Mark thought that was the perfect
opportunity. He reached under the tree and removed James’s gift and
handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

“Open it and see.”

James tore the paper back. “A real sword,
just like yours.”

“There’s more, keep going.”

“Single Combat Strategy
and
Tactics?”

“Yeah, it’s your combat class textbook for
next year. Ms. Vanmie gave me special permission to get it for
you.”

James stared at Mark for what seemed like
the longest time. “I’ve been accepted?”

“Yep. I got the Council of Elders to let me
tell you.”

“Mom, Dad, did you hear that? I’ve been
accepted.”

James turned to look at his parents.
There was a silent flash, but again, no one
except the person on the porch really noticed that
another
picture had been snapped.

Mark reached under the tree again, removed
two small packages and took them to his parents.

“This one is for you, Mom.” He handed her
the tiny package. “This one is for you.” He handed his dad the
other little package.

Shirley opened her gift. “Oh, Mark! This is
beautiful.” She put it on her finger and held it out to look at
it.

“It’s a family ring. The diamond and the
ruby in the middle are for you and dad, the emerald and agate
represent me and James.”

Steve opened his gift and held up two sets
of keys. “Keys? These aren’t car keys and they’re not house
keys.”

“Look out back.”

Steve got up and looked out the kitchen
window. “I see a tarp covering something. Looks like we got about
six more inches of snow last night.”

Mark looked out the window. The ATV’s were
covered with a tarp.

“They’re ATVs, Dad. The guy who delivered
them last night must have put a tarp over them because it was
snowing.”

“ATVs, like in Albuquerque?”

“Yes sir, only better ones.”

Breakfast was followed by the troop heading
out to ride the ATVs in the snow. Steve pulled the tarp off the
machines and gave them a once-over. Mark and James were engaged in
a snowball fight.

Shirley looked past Mark at something that
she thought she saw move in the snow. She was right. A figure, made
of snow, stood up, wielding a scimitar made of ice. Another stood
and then another. They looked like an evil army of putrescent
corpses, all made out of snow and ice.

Shirley’s hand flew to her mouth and she
screamed. The figure that had been unseen in the distance,
crouching in the snow, disappeared.

Steve turned to look at Shirley and he saw
them. Another dozen stood up.

“Mark, behind you!”

Mark turned and saw them. “THRALLS!” He
withdrew his sword from Aaron’s Grasp and pulled it from its
scabbard. He dropped the scabbard and made a figure eight with the
sword in front of himself.

The thralls, forming an arc in front of
Mark, took a half step back to form a fighting stance. They all
screamed at once, horrific and spine chilling. Shirley fainted.

Mark wondered why the thralls were moving so
slowly. In fact everything was moving in super slow motion except
for himself. He didn’t have time to think about it; he had to
act.

Steve began running to Shirley.

The thrall closest to James had aimed a cut
at James’s neck. Mark’s blade came up, striking the thrall’s wrist
and then across, separating its head from its body. The rest of the
thralls were dispatched just as quickly and just as easily. They
were all moving in very slow motion. It was like they were all
almost frozen in time.

Mark stopped, surveyed his surroundings, and
saw no more danger. He gave his blade a jerk as if to dislodge any
invisible blood that might have been on it. A figure, wielding a
broad sword, appeared directly in front of him.
Mark raised his blade to attack before realizing
that
it was Harmonious Thorpe.

Before Mark could speak, other figures
started appearing, each brandishing a sword. Tim, Gerod, Shana,
Mrs. Shadowitz and a host of others remanifested all around
him.

Mr. Thorpe looked at the piles of snow. His
voice shattered the silence.

“What! I’ve been freezing my nose off for
three hours now, guarding you, and you don’t even need it. You
don’t even have the foggiest idea of what you did, do you boy?”

Mrs. Shadowitz said, “That’s quite enough,
Harmonious.”

Steve, picking Shirley up, called to Mark,
“Are you all right, son? That’s the most amazing thing that I have
ever seen. Do all Magi fight like that?”

James said, “Wow! That was way cool! How’d
you do that?”

Mrs. Shadowitz stepped up to Steve. “Gerod,
take care of Mrs. Young.” She looked at Steve. “Can you describe
what you saw?”

Harmonious Thorpe said, “It’s obvious what
he saw. It was Maode Maharaw; an ability well beyond his skill
level.”

“Be quiet, Harmonious. Mr. Young, if you
please.”

“Mark moved like a blur. This whole fight
took less than five seconds, and there must have been three or four
dozen of those things.”

Mark had his hands on his knees and was
panting, trying to catch his breath. “Fifty-two, there were
fifty-two of them.” He bent to pick up the sheath and fell to his
knees.

Mrs. Shadowitz stepped up to Mark and
grabbed him, letting her sword fall to the ground. Steve ran up,
too.

She stooped to examine Mark. “Maode Maharaw,
an ability that takes years of practice to master, appeared when
needed. Very interesting, indeed.” She turned to Gerod. “Is she
going to be all right?”

“Yes ma’am. She’s not injured, just
fainted.”

“Very well, get her into the house.” She
raised her voice. “Thank you all. You may now return to what you
were doing.”

Gerod took Shirley into the house.

Steve asked, “What’s this Maode
Maharaw?”

“Maode Maharaw is from the old language. It
just means very fast, but for Magi it has a special meaning.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sure that you have had
experiences that are quite out of the ordinary. For example, have
you ever been so scared that when the adrenalin started flowing,
everything seemed to move in slow motion?”

“Sure, that’s pretty common in close
combat.”

“Exactly. Magi train to produce skills like
that and many more; so that they can call those skills up when
needed. The mystery is; Mark hasn’t been trained in this, yet.”

“Isn’t that dangerous, I mean using
adrenalin like that?”

Mrs. Shadowitz looked Steve straight in the
eye. “Oh, yes. It can be. It’s very taxing on the body. In five
seconds, he was as exhausted as if he had been in all out combat
for over an hour. If it’s over used, it can kill.”

“That’s not good.”

“Indeed. Now here’s the kicker, Mark is not
even very good at sword combat. This event just adds to the
mystery.”

Steve looked at his son. Mark was still out
of breath.

“I estimate based on the number of opponents
and the time that it took to dispatch them that he was working
six-hundred to six-hundred and fifty times faster than normal. One
hundred times faster than normal is standard. Two-hundred times
faster is exceptional.”

“You think that he was working that
fast.”

“Oh, yes. AlHufus Diefenderfer and Joseph
Young were exceptional, and the two of them lost to a group of
about fifty thralls.”

Steve remembered the dinner that the family
had with Mr. Diefenderfer. “Joseph Young, my great, great, great
grandfather, was the one that was killed in the fight in the
museum?”

“He was thrown into the labyrinth… Mark
needs nourishment, sugar and salt. Get him a soda and some peanuts,
if you have them.”

Steve looked at James. James nodded, ran up
the back porch stairs and into the house.

“What were those things, anyway?”

“Foul manifestations, thralls, sub-golem
monstrosities, slaves to their master’s will. Benrah can’t create
life, only copy it and not very well at that, fetid, soulless
things.”

Everyone, excluding Mr. Thorpe, walked up to
Mark, slapped him on the back and said, “Well done!” before
disappearing.

Ms. Vanmie added, “You’ll be glad to know
that you just aced your fourth year mid-term for single combat.
Congratulations.”

There is a time for every purpose.

Back at school, Mark waited for his friends
in the Emerald dorm common room. Nick came in carrying two large,
obviously heavy, suitcases.

“What’s that?”

“It’s just a little something that I cooked
up for Slone and his crew.”

“Oh, yeah. What is it?”

Chenoa and Jamal walked in and saw Nick with
the suitcases.

Mark said, “Nick’s cooked up something to
get Slone back with.”

Jamal said, “Revenge is not a good thing. It
only leads to more revenge.”

Nick said, “I’m not going to let him get
away with what he did to us in the mall. That’ll only make him
think that he can do anything to us, anywhere and anytime that he
wants, and we won’t do anything back. Besides, it’s not really
revenge. It’s a practical joke.”

Chenoa asked, “What kind of practical
joke?”

“I’m going to make him and all of his
buddies crap in their pants.”

Mark said, “Slone doesn’t scare that
easy.”

“No, I’m not going to scare him. I’m going
to make them evacuate, literally.”

“What are you going to do, put laxatives in
their food?”

“No, I’m going to use an infra-sonic
weapon.”

“What’s an infra-sonic weapon?”

“It uses sound waves that are so low that
you can’t hear them.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You see, high-power, low-frequency sound
has all kinds of effects, so you have to be careful with it. It
vibrates you and can explode eyeballs or any other organ and stuff
like that. You set the right frequency for what effect you want.
Three point three hertz makes anyone in the sound field have an
instant bowel movement.”