Maker

Chapter: 9-3

“I can’t rule with anyone with a name like a comic book villain.” I said.

He just shrugged “A wizard by any other name…” I had no idea where that accent was from; maybe somewhere in Europe. “A Joker is a clown on a playing card. Lex Luthor is a man of business. These things are not intimidating. We could be called Happy the Peanut and it would make little difference. Not a name, but only the fear, that matters.” I found myself unsettled by that. According to the hero’s book of banter, chapter five, verse three, I was supposed to win that one. It was advantageous since I was stalling, but still disturbing.

“What makes you think I’d join you?”

“How could you not?” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled. The crow’s feet at his eyes said he didn’t give out many genuine smiles, but this was one of them. “You killed a few of mine. I would overlook this should you join us. There are other forces in the world. I will make you aware of them. You are a minor power, magically speaking. I will mold you into something grand. Your other choice, run around ignorant and disruptive until something takes notice and kills you.”

Say what you want about Blackstar; he saw things pretty clearly. Most minor talents didn’t know about the Martinet, fey, demons, goblins, lycanthropes, vampires, ghosts, angels, dragons, and I didn’t know nearly as much as I could. The last sentence was a pretty accurate description of my future.

I realized with a rush that through all that, the charmer potion was still working. Another advantage, but how to capitalize on it? I lowered my wand and relaxed my stance.

“We should be called the Beatles,” I said. “They were the greatest.”

He shrugged again, “I’ve always enjoyed the Rolling Stones. Perhaps the Rolling Beatles? There is time to discuss it.”

“Of course, I certainly don’t want to clash with you over a misunderstanding,” I said with a smile I wasn’t feeling. Making faces was easy for me, even when I wasn’t feeling it. The recipe for a smile was to wrinkle my forehead a bit, squint ever so slightly, keep both sides of my mouth even and don’t show any teeth. It fooled practically everyone. Maybe I missed my calling and actually belonged in Hollywood. “What are we summoning?”

“Ahh, that is a fine surprise, one I think you will…” He looked at the burning building, then back to me with a furrowed brow. There was rage in his eyes and a gust of foul wind suddenly rose. So much for the charmer potion.

The breeze smelled like hatred feels. Like a swamp full of dead and dying things mixed with fire, burned flesh, and a dash of screaming. I threw my wand up before me.

“Fire!” A single stone flew from the end at blinding speed. It bounced off a shield of solidified air and took a chunk out of a tree. There were sirens in the distance, and I heard them getting closer. Small favors.

Firehag came out of nowhere, screeching like a bird of prey after a kill. She’d burst from the flaming rubble and charged. One arm was covered in blood and hung limp at her side. She was in a rage and came at me with the fingernails of her good arm aiming for my throat. This was the reason I worked so hard to control my emotions. Had she stayed back and thrown spells, they could’ve taken me easily.

This attack was a distraction for Blackstar who, assuming he cared, now had to worry if he’d hit her. It was worse for her. Thirty feet apart, we were a weak wizard versus a strong wizard throwing spells to the death. Three feet apart, and we were a strong young man versus an injured old woman.

I dodged the physical attack, which was laughably slow and raked the fork down her face on reflex. I didn’t expect it would work on something living, but it did. Her flesh melted and reformed as the fork trailed through it. It ended with taking a small piece of her jaw. She screamed and grabbed her face with her good hand; the nails were long, and the pink fluid leaking from them sprayed me as she retreated a few steps.

I noted the pink stuff was corrosive as a few drops burned straight through my jacket. She splattered droplets on herself when she went to cover her face and screamed again as the acid from her nails burned her skin.

My fork was dead. I could feel it. Changing something living required lots of power, and that was a permanent change. It was as worthless now as, well… as a plastic fork.

I advanced, hoping to finish her and was just in time to walk into a hammer of air swung by Blackstar. It was like getting hit by a semi-solid missile. I flew through the air for about thirty feet and rolled with the impact of the landing. Add to that my pants, shirt, coat, and the fact that I was scared out of my mind, and even slamming into the concrete wall of the building didn’t keep me down. I was up again before the pain fully registered. Pain was easier to manage when you were standing.

I thanked my lucky stars I’d put my hood up earlier, or my skull would likely have split like a melon. As it was, I was shaking off a torrent of dizziness.

Blackstar was smiling and stalking nearer. I couldn’t hear anything since he had the air around him solidified into that pesky shield, but I could tell from his lips moving rapidly and the grandiose arm gestures that something nasty was coming. This was gonna get ugly. Well... uglier. The smell from the building was something toxic that made me cough.

Then I felt a heave from my stomach, and my eyes began to burn. Blackstar was finished casting and crossed his arms with a smile, and then I got it.

Tear gas, or something like it—and it covered the whole place. I could hold my breath, but the damage was done. A flame shot from his hand and barely missed me. I dodged and rolled away, looking for a place to hide.

When I looked up the wall had a six-foot hole burned through it and Blackstar was holding a ball of glowing concrete over his head like a second sun. He was still smiling, waiting for me to get to my feet before he threw it.

It was lava, but lava was still rock, so I held up my wand and absorbed it as it came in. I screamed from the heat. Enchanted jacket or not, this was too much. I grabbed the wand in my right hand and coughed as the tear gas made my vision worse. Blackstar clapped and appeared to be laughing, as if he was enjoying a performance.

I knew when I was being toyed with. The attacks that only came after I was ready and the amount of power being casually thrown around made that abundantly clear. It was insulting, but it was also good news. It meant he wouldn’t kill me if I kept providing a sufficient level of entertainment and didn’t prove to be a genuine threat. At least the second part would be easy.

I held my wand near the wall, shut my eyes, and ran. Blackstar was after me in that long stride, and I saw with dismay that Firehag was back up and right behind him. Unfortunately, she seemed unaffected by the gas.

My wand cut a wide furrow in the stone work as I ran. I didn’t stop until I felt fresh air hit my eyes at the corner of the building. I exhaled and gulped the air—which was blessedly free of pain.

My eyes were still blurry as my tears tried to clear them, but I could see well enough to know that Blackstar was stalking closer with Firehag behind.

I held up my hands as if I wanted to talk.

They didn’t believe me, but they hesitated a moment, and that was all I needed. The wall I’d weakened creaked and fell. With the fire raging inside there was no way it could stay up. Blackstar caught on first. He raised his hand and a large section of the falling wall shattered into smaller rocks that all came straight for me.

I dodged most of them and interned a few more in my wand. The last was the size of a beach ball and moved like a bullet. I didn’t have time to get my wand up. I dodged and it hit me in the left side. My burned arm lit up with a blinding agony again. I heard ribs crack and felt my body crumble. How long was this damn shadow potion going to take?! Fire department, shadow potion, divine intervention; I’d take anything at this point.

I got back to my knees, and the lurching motion made me nauseous. Hag was standing next to Blackstar and both were smirking.

I had to do something. I couldn’t afford to let either of them think this fight was over. They’d finish it.

“Fire.” I croaked. It didn’t sound like a word, but my wand knew what I meant. A rock the size of my fist flew at Firehag. She saw it coming and stepped aside, putting Blackstar between us so I couldn’t see her.

I got back to my feet in time to see her arms wrap around Blackstar and turn into flamethrowers.

“Hydrate!” I screamed. The grass at my feet withered as every molecule of water came to my call. I sent it through the flames and all the way to her hands, but there was no way I could extinguish that fire completely. The cloud of steam blocked any sight of them. This was the chance I’d been looking for.

The art of tactics is the art of deception. It’s figuring out the one thing your enemy would never expect and then doing it. I knew what they wouldn’t expect, so I charged. I saw Firehag first and swung my broken limp arm as hard as I could. My whole left side turned into a mass of screaming pain sprinkled with numbness, but it was worth it.

I hit her square in the face and she fell in a lump, unconscious. At the same time, I aimed my wand at where Blackstar had been and screamed, “Fire!” I heard the thunk and figured I’d hit his shield. That was as much cover as the steam gave me.

Blackstar became clear. He was standing casually with his arms folded, still looking at me with that superior smirk.

Then I saw a trail of steam move through his cheek. A mote of dust—more than one—floated into his arm. An illusion!

I whirled the wand in a circle above my head just as the world grew brighter. Finally.

“Expel!” Rock, dirt and metal rushed out in every direction as the chill of the spell rushed in. Not more than six feet to my right the real Blackstar was now visible, and flat on his back. He was up again right away, gasping for breath and choking on dust in the night air. At least that’s what I assume.

I wasn’t there to see it.