Deadly Wands (28 page)

The American Indian girl cheered every
victory, rejoiced in every wand he took, and flirted with him at
every opportunity. He had fans before, but not fanatics, although
the word for fan in Spanish is “fanatica.” She declared herself his
biggest fan and sent him food, drink, and painkillers.

By late afternoon it all began to blur
together, like he was sleep-dueling. Long distance flying often put
him in a dream-like state -- it just never happened when fighting
for his life. So it came as something of a surprise when he looked
up after killing his last opponent and couldn’t find the sun. The
packed stadium was on its feet roaring its approval, but he tuned
them out long ago. The only voice he heard was that damn girl. From
high in the stadium stands, she beamed down at him like the
moon.

One thing was perfectly clear, though: he
couldn’t have survived the day without George’s new suits and
underclothes.

The stunned manager came out to close out the
day. His final score? 1005 kills in 335 duels. The most ever. The
compilation video would soon go viral worldwide. Even Billy
couldn’t believe the total. The manager looked at him with awe. And
fear.

Billy didn’t remember leaving the arena for
his dressing room. He took a long hot bath and soaked up his wands.
He felt strangely vulnerable after killing so many. Just when he
chided himself for paranoia, he heard a huge explosion outside the
stadium, followed by a massive barrage of blasts. Terrified, the
world’s best dueler huddled naked in his cold tub, all alone,
missing his mommy and daddy. He pointed a wand at himself to do
another video diary. He started, as always, with the date and
location, then summarized his day.

“This may be my last diary,” he confessed,
not aware just how many times he had said this over the years. “I
can feel the enemy waiting for me to leave.”

Years later people would discover their
fearless hero was also a scared little boy.

Finally, he ran out of excuses and disguised
himself as a peasant. He waited for a family to leave, then tagged
along to blend in. It had always worked in the past. However, not
ten paces into the busy street the girl dropped down on him with
the flying skill of a master.

"Are you kidding me? Hideously Ugly?" she
asked with a laugh upon seeing his boyish face. "You are
gorgeous!"

“Go away! It’s not safe.”

She smiled. “Oh, the battalion commander
assumed only the Red Baron would challenge three at a time all day,
so he volunteered his troops and sent for the nearest super-quad
company assigned to kill you. You finished his under-strength
battalion by noon, but the mercenaries didn’t fare any better.

“The last team you dueled killed my parents
several years ago, so you basically own me now. I’ll do anything to
make you happy.

“How could you still lift a wand? I dug my
fingernails deep enough into my arms to draw blood. I held my
breath for so long I nearly asphyxiated. I screamed so loud my
throat is still raw. You let them triangulate you. Then, when they
charged, you simply fell on your back -- all six fireballs flew
over you -- and blasted two brothers with your boot wands. That
propelled you towards the third one who would have died of surprise
if you had not speared him like a bull. I came so hard my panties
are still soaked. I’ve never heard of that tactic, and I’ve dueled
thousands of times. You killed the three best Mongol duelers in
Europe in one heartbeat.”

“I don’t really remember.”

The beauty studied him carefully and began to
grasp the depth of his exhaustion. “You dueled two super-quad
companies. The third we bombed in an ally while they waited to
ambush you. The rest of the battalion are probably flying here
now.”

Billy popped a cork. “They sent a battalion
of super-quads after me?”

“They followed you from Siam. You didn’t know
Genghis Khan hired the world’s best mercenaries to kill you?”

“I have seven hundred of the world’s best
quads hunting me?”

“Not anymore. My friends ambushed two
companies this month. My twin brother has been dueling them in
arenas in France.”

“I look forward to meeting your twin.”

“No you don’t. He’s not gonna like you being
with me.”

“I’m with you?”

He wanted to flee, but she entered his
personal space like she owned it and examined his face like a ruby.
He had never met a woman so direct. She looked into his eyes as if
he was an open book and she read him cover to cover, writing mental
notes along the way.

"I never knew absolute horniness until I
watched you duel teams of three, hour after hour. It was the most
amazing thing I’ve ever seen. You danced by fireballs like a
bullfighter. You beat some teams without even leaving the ground.”
For the first time, he had no idea what to do as she took his head
into her hands and smiled into his eyes. "Baron, your secret is
safe with me."

"You mistake me for someone else."

"Oh no, my champion. I could spot your aura
from a kilometer up. You have the most powerful energy I’ve ever
seen, and I’ve spent my life around the world’s most powerful
quads. Like you, I’ve been dueling since childhood, but I’m an even
better healer. You favor your left leg, you can’t raise your right
hand over your head, and your back hurts like hell. I can help you
with that. Here, let me show you."

With that she backed him into the shadows and
slowly kissed him until he attached himself to her face like a
barnacle. Her tongue must be ninja-trained the way it snuck around
his mouth. The way her nipples pressed against his thin shirt
electrocuted his chest. He felt high, but instead of thinking
clearer, his mind shut down. He felt her hands on his body, and the
warmth she applied to his wounds, but mostly he hooked himself to
her lips like a fish.

Billy just found his next addiction.

"I don't know about you," she finally said,
smiling, "but I feel better." Probably three years older, she took
his hand and walked through several streets until they reached a
crowded restaurant where they could whisper in private over dinner.
He remained in a daze, but still noticed that her eyes searched for
threats.

"My name is Princess and my brother Prince.
Our father wasn't even a chief, but the local shaman suggested the
names because our parents were kings of the arena. They died when
we were ten, so we’ve been killing their dueling champions ever
since. I became a millennial before puberty.”

She rambled on until it dawned on him that
she was doing it to make him comfortable. Still, he wouldn't even
tell her his name. Or why he dueled. Or where his parents were.

"Come with me," she insisted. "You must meet
the people I’m with."

"Only if I can keep a mask on. I’ll not
answer questions or show my face. The Mongols will kill me if my
image or identify become known."

And it’d be the death of him if the Mongols
knew the Red Baron was just a kid.

CHAPTER 34

Princess led him high, darting from cloud to
cloud, then dropped down in a forest in the middle of nowhere.
Billy couldn’t spot the campfire. Her wand emitted a soft greeting,
so it would not travel far, before landing in the open. A burly guy
greeted them, hands empty to signal peace.

"You almost missed dinner, Princess. I’m
Bear,” he said to Billy.

"Oh, we already ate."

"Dating already?" He chuckled. "Better meet
Grandma before you get your hopes up," he advised Billy. "Some of
the guys call Princess the Universal Target because everyone has
taken a shot at her. Unsuccessfully," he added.

"He won't show his face or answer questions,"
Princess warned.

"I wouldn't either if I beat a thousand quads
in one day. They thought they could just tire you out, so they went
from least to most powerful. You got a vicious multi-millennial
named Buri who killed some friends of mine. You finished him so
fast I thought I blinked. What harsh shit did you whisper while you
watched the life drain out of him?”

“Just something the Third Millennial said
right before I killed him.”

The big guy lit up in joy. “You got the Third
Millennial? Oh, you’re gonna be real popular here.”

“Would you like Buri’s wand set, Bear?”

The big guy looked stunned. Wands that
powerful were worth a fortune. “How much?”

“Protect me. That’s the price you must
pay.”

“But I’d do that anyways, for someone who can
out-duel a thousand Mongols a day.”

“Then we have a deal?” Billy asked, opening
his backpack to show him several thousand wand sets.

Bear snatched them up before the kid changed
his mind and they shook hands.

"Call me Red."

"Red?" Bear thought that funny. "We believe
that warriors should be called whatever they want to be called. I
knew a guy who insisted we call him Shit For Brains because he kept
enlisting for the most dangerous duty. Brave bastard." And
apparently dead. "Well, come on. Everyone wants to meet the guy who
has enough energy to duel all day. Just the thought tires me out.
Don't pull a wand or some of them might pee themselves."

His chuckle echoed against the trees.

"Look who accepted our invitation," Bear
announced, gesturing grandly to Billy, who looked uncomfortable
with two hundred eyes sizing him up. "He wants to be called Red. I
know, I know. I thought he’d be taller, too. He only came on the
condition that he’d not show his face or answer questions. When I
asked if he had a pleasant flight, he refused to tell me."

No one drew a wand, so Billy stepped forward.
He noticed that they built a roof of branches over their cooking
fires so they could not be spotted from the air. They all looked
like tough veterans.

What have I walked into? he asked
himself.

“Hey, grandpa!” Bear called out. “Want to
shake the hand of the guy who killed the Third Millennial?”

An old man ran out, as excited as a boy on
his birthday. "I’m American Jack."

Stunned, Billy gave him a thorough look-over,
because he sure didn’t seem like the longtime leader of the
resistance. "You're kidding!"

Everyone laughed, but Billy didn't mean to
insult the poor man. American Jack was a legend. Like Genghis, he
mated with thousands of quads to continue the fight. He just didn't
look like a legend.

"I get that a lot," he replied with a smile,
apparently hard to offend. “What’s with the red suit in Paris? Most
veterans want to blend in, not stand out.”

“For three centuries, Genghis Khan used his
terrifying reputation as the world’s best dueler to build an
empire. I hope to build my own terrifying reputation to tear that
empire down. Genghis became a legend to take people’s freedom; I
shall become a legend to give it back. Justice requires that what
they did to others be done to them.”

“Crap! I wasn’t recording. Could you say that
again so the world can hear it?”

At first, Billy thought they were messing
with him, but they sure seemed sincere, so he repeated himself. Not
a few of them were crying. Not the least of whom was Jack
himself.

“You’re a damn relief, is what you are. The
videos of you beating Mongol armadas lifted many of us out of
depression. Your victories have flooded American University with
high-quality recruits. Thousands of European quads working for the
Mongols switched sides because of you. You’ve convinced half the
world that the Empire could lose.”

“Could lose?” Billy found that offensive.
“I’m convinced they’ll lose. I could have killed Genghis Khan
several times by now.”

If they liked him before, they absolutely
loved him now. He could see it in their eyes, like a doctor telling
a patient he can be cured.

"Everyone has wondered what became of the
Third Millennial,” Jack said. “Genghis Khan assumes the devious
fart is just avoiding him.”

“I’ve survived a million fights because I use
his Millennial Wands.”

Jack studied the Millennials closely. “That
bastard led the raid that killed my wife and family. I loved my
wife so much that I never re-married. Not even after three hundred
years.”

“Wanna see the look on his face when I stuck
steel into his chest?”

The audience reacted as if he threw gold at
them. They instantly mobbed him, while some hovered a few meters in
the air to see.

Billy projected an unbelievably large 3D
image. They remained silent as they watched, from his perspective,
the blades shoot out of the snow. The look on Subodei’s incredulous
face was priceless. They gasped as Billy sliced his arms and
cheered wildly as the great general flopped about from having his
testicles electrocuted. Finally, they got to the clip of him
saying, “You know what I like most about a fair fight? The better
fighter always wins.”

The applause deafened him. The pats on his
back fell so hard they knocked him around. He had never seen so
many exhilarated faces. Several of these hardened warriors openly
wept. A tough-looking Russian hugged him, tears falling
uncontrollably.

“Can I have a copy?” someone asked.

He tapped wand after wand.

“Let the man breathe,” Bear insisted, roughly
pushing them back. “He obviously can take a blast, but your damn
crying is unmanning him.”

And it was. He bonded with them before he
even knew their names.

“Sorry, Red. You see, pretty much everyone
here loved someone killed by Subodei. Yet not even Prince could
beat him in a fair fight.”

Their tears were making even Billy cry, so
Bear helped him out.

“Ay! Now look at what you’ve done to poor
Jack.” The old man sat in the dirt, cradling his head in his hands,
bawling like a baby. “I’ve known the man for two hundred years and
I’ve never seen him cry like that. Not even that time he thought I
shoved his beloved wands up a Mongol’s anus.”