Wizard's Sword (The Battle Wizard Saga, No.2) (5 page)

Relaxing, she smiled slowly. "I thought about the expression on Arianna′s face if you transform the next time you spar hand-to-hand. Now, I want to see the expression on Bella′s face when you pull out that sword." She gave him a huge grin. "I really, really want to see that."

Then her face got serious. "What are you?"

"I′m told I′m a Battle Wizard."

"Uhm, I′ve heard about those, but don′t know anything about them. They′re rare."

"Well that makes us even. I don′t know much about it either. I just found out about it and haven′t had any training. The main thing I know is that I can′t do most of the magical things I′m supposed to do."

The Professor walked to the table with the candelabrum and other practice artifacts. "Come examine this."

Sig and Giselle walked over.

He looked up at Sig. "Observe the bowl. What do you see?"

Sig blinked. A hazy image was dimming. "That′s Professor Balcescu. It looks like she′s holding a cup of coffee, and looking up at us." The image disappeared from the water.

"Yes, she′s quite sensitive." He pointed to the candelabrum. "Now observe there."

One of the candles was sagging and a drop of wax fell onto the table. Sig poked the puddle it made with a finger. Warm, but not hot enough to burn. "Yes, Professor, I know how it′s supposed to work. Grampa demonstrated it for me too, but I can′t do that."

The Professor looked up into his face. "I didn′t cause that."

Sig looked to Giselle who again stared at the console. "There are several magical output peaks that weren′t here before."

"Yes. They showed up while you two were bantering."

"So someone interfered?" Sig asked.

Giselle shook her head at Sig. "We do calibration here because this room is shielded; both magically and physically, with lining in the walls. No one outside can interfere."

The Professor tapped his lips with an index finger. "What scene did you concentrate upon when you attempted distance viewing?"

"I wanted to see how Mom was doing." He gazed into the bowl that now held clear water.

"Yes, that would explain the viewing phenomenon."

Giselle walked up. "What about the candle. It takes more energy to melt a candle into a puddle than to light a wick. What does he have, magical Tourette's syndrome?"

"Let′s pray not. That would be a great deal more perilous than uttering random profanities. No, this resembles a delayed reaction. Is this the candle you focused upon, Sigurd?"

"No. I focused on that one," he said pointing two candles over at the one on the end.

 "Well, apparently it′s not a question of your not having magic. As Giselle said, your readings are almost off the chart. Something prevents release. Then sometimes it spills out. None of the other artifacts are affected."

The Professor frowned with concentration. "You recognize the presence of magical beings even when they′re disguised, such as the zombies and the demon. You′ve described the sensing of magic almost as if it were a smell. Those facts suggest a line of inquiry. Not a resolution, but it suggests an investigational bearing."

"What should I do in the meantime?" 

"Continue as you are. Attend to me as we′ve discussed and don′t attempt any unsupervised magic. Practice your martial skills. I′ve seen Bella in action, it could be humorous to see her face as Giselle suggests. Or, you could use this room when tests aren′t scheduled."

Sig stood, but couldn′t completely straighten before his helm touched the ceiling. "It′s a little tight in here for me."

"Yes, you need to practice in both natures, but discretely. Giselle won′t divulge your secret." He turned to her. "Can we depend upon your compatriots′ discretion as well?"

She looked affronted. "Of course! They′re my tribe." Then she shook her head. "But I won′t say anything about it unless someone asks me."

"Will you request secrecy from them should the need arise?"

"Yes."

"Fine, today′s assignment is concluded. Thank you."

Sig shifted shapes. After the Professor left, he asked Giselle, "Does he always talk like that?"

"Always. You′ll get used to it. He learned English in a different time."

"How old is he?"

"At least 250."

"Wow. I wouldn′t have guessed him to be a day over 200."

Giselle rolled her eyes. "No magic, and no comedy skills either."

"Maybe it will result in delayed laughter."

Her mouth quirked. He recognized the beginning of a smile.

"See, the mirth starts to spill over."

Sig arrived at the Professor′s home to the sight of Rick pacing across the porch. He forgot that he and Rick arranged to go out for supper again. Physically sore and mentally drained from his sessions with the Amazons and the Professor, Sig didn′t look forward to it.

However, Rick had the boundless energy of a Were and wanted to dive into the social scene. Sig couldn′t let him down.

Rick climbed into the passenger seat of Sig′s truck and said, "A kid rode a pony in the dark, past the Professor′s fence a couple of times while I waited." He pointed to the left past the eight-foot tall, magically shielded rock and wrought iron fence surrounding the three-acre estate. 

Sig considered that for a moment. "There are a number of yards in the neighborhood where people keep horses. The Professor′s place is one of the small sized lots."

"Yeah, but I worry about a kid riding in the dark. There are lots of shadows; cars might not see him or her."

"OK, I′ll be careful and watch out for the kid. Let′s go. This has to be an early night for me."

Sig′s drove down the driveway. At the street, he stopped and looked both ways. Rick pointed past him to the left, "Look, I think that′s the kid on the pony. Maybe you can talk to him about that Dressage stuff and tell him to be careful."

Sig looked to his left, through the shadows next to the fence; a person mounted on something the size of a small horse ran toward them. As it approached them, he realized it didn′t move right for a horse.

The smell of evil fermenting in the belly of hatred washed over him. His eyes widened. "That′s not a horse…"

Rick shouted. "It′s a wolf."

Sig stomped on the gas, but the rider and wolf were upon them. Before the truck could roll more than a few feet, a sword cleaved through the roof, the window behind his seat, and into the floor. Broken glass sprayed. The truck stalled.

Rick dove out of the passenger door. Sig clutched his medallion and shouted "Aðalbrandr". As his body expanded, he shoved the door into the huge wolf and its rider. Sig′s head slammed into the roof but the push gave him enough clearance to duck, squeeze out, and unsheathe his sword.

He brought it up and blocked a sword chop to his head. After diving below another slash, he rolled away, rising to his feet just in time. The wolf pivoted. Sig blocked blows the helmeted warrior rained down upon him from the wolf′s back. The surprising force of the blows caused Sig to use a two-handed Kendo grip. The rider chopped and slashed, sword in one hand.

The midnight black wolf dove low and snapped at Sig′s ankles. He shoved its head into the ground before it could fasten on his leg. Sword slashes continued to slam at him. Sig had to use a one handed grip on Aðalbrandr while he clutched the back of the wolf′s neck. The blows drove his sword down toward his head.

The wolf pulled free and reared on two legs, tall enough to go for Sig′s throat. He seized it below the jaw to keep it away. Jaws gaped wider, wider than any real wolf could, and its teeth lengthened, stretching toward his face.

Another wolf slammed into the black beast, grabbing and savaging its ear. Rick to the rescue.

The two wolves rolled away in a growling, writhing ball, teeth snapping.

The rider leapt to the ground without a glance at the wolves now ripping and snarling at each other. He advanced on Sig with a shuffling step, slashing and stabbing. Sig gave ground, back toward the fence. He fought for his life against an attacker half his size. Blood streaming from cuts on his arms and side attested to the danger he was in. The relentless rider forced Sig back. He pinned him against the fence. Blood made Sig′s grip on Aðalbrandr slippery.

One of the fighting wolves squealed. Sig′s adversary paused. Sig took the opportunity to slice through a 3-inch diameter tree and swing it to strike the rider in the side of his gray-feathered helmet. He fell to the ground.

Lying on the ground, the man gestured. The tree in Sig′s hand burst into flame. Startled, he flung it at the rider. The flaming tree caught the side of the helmet covering his face and head on fire.

The rider rolled to his feet and screeched, like a hawk. The black wolf disengaged. The rider jumped on its back, and they bounded away, smoke trailing from the burning helmet.

Rick started to give chase but Sig turned and grabbed him to stop him. He didn′t want Rick to run into an ambush.

A roar from behind made Sig whirl and raise his sword. A huge flaming ball hurtled toward him. He swung his sword at it and knocked it aside, away from Rick. Another followed and he batted it back in the direction it had come from. Trees next to the fence ignited when it landed among them.

Sig assumed a guard stance, but nothing else materialized.

Rick stepped into the shadows and changed to human form. Sig decided to maintain his shape.

Professor Herman pulled up in a Maybach 62S. Sig′s mouth dropped open, distracted from the wolf and rider, while he gawked at the car. The Professor looked up at him through the clear moon roof. The Maybach is what a Rolls Royce would be with more leading edge technology and even more power.

Sig′s truck and the still flaming tree blocked the driveway entrance. The Professor climbed out of his vehicle, surveyed the damage to Sig′s truck with a quick glance, and took in the flaming tree blocking the gateway. "What occurred here?"

"A man with a sword riding a huge wolf attacked us."

"It wasn′t a Were. It wasn′t a real wolf, but it wasn′t a Were. It didn′t smell right," Rick yammered.

Sig didn′t like the look of the slashes on Rick′s arms and shoulders. Blood ran from gaping cuts and soaked his shirt.

Professor Herman gestured toward the house. "Let′s get behind the warded fence."

Sig grabbed the tree, threw it to the side, changed forms, and jumped into his stalled truck. It fired up immediately. As he backed up, he heard a screech and then a sword sliced through the roof on the passenger side, spraying him with glass again before it ripped off the door. The truck stalled again.

A fireball passed over Sig's head and struck the helmeted rider, knocking him off his wolf.

Sig looked over at the Professor who stood with his upper body out of his car′s moon roof. Smoke drifted from his hands.

Sig tried again and the truck started. He mashed the accelerator. Tires squealed as he backed up the driveway into the Professor′s estate followed closely by the Maybach.

As Sig passed through the gateway, the rider leapt back on the wolf to pursue but ran into an invisible barrier at the gate. The wolf mashed its face as it slammed into it. The rider flew over the wolf′s head and squealed again when he smacked against the barrier. He leapt to his feet, raised his arm, and hurled the largest fireball Sig had yet seen. Sig held his hands up in front of his face instinctively, knowing it would be futile.

The fireball splattered against the invisible wall where the gates would normally be. Flame splashed in all directions except into the estate. The fighter in the feathered helmet screeched again. The sound made Sig′s teeth ache.

Rick and the Professor ran up the stairs onto the expansive porch. The Professor turned and hurled a flaming ball of energy back at the rider. It passed through the invisible wall, but the warrior slapped it aside with his blade. The rider′s shrieks crescendoed as he and the wolf paced back and forth in front of the entrance.

Back in his battle form, Sig stood with sword raised. Professor Herman shouted. "Get into the house, swiftly. If he′s alone, we will be safe. If he arrived here with his demon legions, I′m uncertain as to the outcome. Quickly now, into the house."

Sig sprinted up the steps, ducked under the doorway, and joined Rick in the house. The Professor followed more slowly, backing across the porch, watching for an attack. Sig turned to Rick prepared to render aid, but his wounds weren′t as severe as they had appeared outside and the bleeding had stopped.

Sig slammed the door shut after Professor Herman who began checking the wards he had set inside the house. Satisfied that the enchantments were operational, he walked to the parlor, sank onto the divan, and smiled thinly at Sig and Rick.

Rick asked, "What did you say about demon legions? Tell me I misheard." Amazingly, Rick′s wounds had almost healed. Only the blood soaking his shirt revealed how severe they had been.

The Professor raised his hand, index finger pointing up, and then brought it down to point at the front door. "I believe that is Andras, a great marquis of Hell. If memory serves, he commands thirty legions of demons."

"Thirty legions? Isn′t that approximately equal to a butt load of demons?"