Sorcerer Rising (A Virgil McDane Novel) (33 page)

Maybe I couldn’t cast it, but I sure as hell could show her how.

I placed a finger over each trigger, preparing to squeeze, concentrating everything on what needed to happen. Angry, orange runes lit up along the barrel, violent and hateful.

I squeezed the triggers.

For a brief moment I wasn’t in the orchard anymore. I was on the rim of a volcano, staring into its mouth. It was cold and dead and dirty ash billowed from within, but for just an instant it lit up, light and heat cutting through the smoke, warming my face.

The gun kicked in my hand, reverberating through my talisman. Golden-orange fire erupted from the barrels, engulfing everything before me, driving me back along the ground. I was yelling, but all I could hear was the roar of the fire, the sounds of trees exploding under the heat, wind blowing around me as the firestorm fed off the air.

Finally, it died.

I lowered the weapon. James was screaming, at least I think he was. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t hear a damn thing.

Smoke filled the air. Ahead of us
, the orchard was a glowing, red path of destruction. Charred wood and sticky resin coated the ground. The bugs had retreated from the fire and the horrible trees twitched and writhed in anger as we walked by.

We did our best to ignore that as we made our way for the gateway, leaving this horrible world behind.

CHAPTER TWENTY

We drove through the night
as best we could, swapping driving duty to let the other sleep, always moving toward the Arcus, toward the group.

James hadn’t spoken much since escaping. He was taking Sam’s death hard. I wasn’t doing much better. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sam’s face right before I pulled the trigger. There was no way to tell exactly what had happened. Maybe the world had done it to him to adapt, maybe he had created the change, the whole world even, when he went in. Either way, it was one of the worst I had ever heard of.

We stopped at a river the next day to refill our canteens and rest. No sign of the group yet, but none either of our attackers. Above us, the Arcus gleamed. The sky was clear today, and the bend was visible, a burning band of light that stretched as far as the eye could see into the atmosphere.

“What is that?” James asked.

I looked where he was pointing. There was a glimmer of light underneath the Arcus’ bend, two twinkling blue objects floating in the air.

And they were heading our way.

I waved at James and we ducked behind the tree line. We watched as the objects descended, then landed in the river, two splashes signaling their arrival. We traded looks, but before we could investigate, two shapes emerged from the river, walking up on the riverbed. They were dressed in some type of tribal garb made from a rough leather.

They surveyed the area with yellow eyes.

I gritted my teeth. I was getting sick of these bastards.

James grabbed my shoulder and dragged me down. I hadn’t even realized I’d stood. The creatures walked into the jungle.

“Come on,” I said.

“What?” James asked. “You want to follow them?”

“You don’t?”

“We need to get back with the group,” he said.

“I’ve been attacked by these things twice. And we know at least once they attacked the expedition. They were in Mare, then in the Walter Cloud right before everything went to shit. If the Arcus did land in a cloud, the group could be in danger. These guys know something!”

“I’m going to regret this,” James said.

The creatures weren’t hard to track. James was by far the superior tracker but even my rudimentary skill was able to pick up their trail.

I did
n’t expect what came over the hill.

A city glistened in the valley below. It was magnificent, surpassing some of the most majestic ruins I had ever seen, ever heard of. Stone buildings littered the jungle, overgrown, reclaimed by the
plant life. It was surrounded by a tall wall, aqueducts and other structures running through the city. Three rectangular pyramids crowned the ruin, gleaming in the high African sun.

“Wow,” James said.

“You have a flair for understatement,” I said.

“What is this?

I shrugged. “Who knows? Africa has seen more kingdoms rise and fall than most of the rest of the world combined.”

Stone figures peered down from the city’s walls as we came up on the gate. Foliage covered everything, but the weathered eyes of the statues followed us as we passed under the wall.

James pointed. The two creatures were just ahead of us, climbing the steep steps of the first pyramid. We followed just behind them, keeping a distance but never letting them out of our sight.

At the top of the steps was a large archway, flickering light reaching out from the darkness within. There was no sign of the two.

“Alright,” I said, “Get ready. Who knows what-”

An explosion cut me off. Rock and dust gusted from the tunnel, engulfing the two of us. I ducked around the corner, drawing Abigail and loading in two ordinary, vanilla shotgun shells. I was running out of spellshot, but these would do just as well in a pinch.

Cautiously we entered the pyramid, my eyes squinting against the dust in the air. I shuddered as I stepped over the threshold of the doorway, a sticky tingling sensation playing over my skin. I shrugged it off and moved farther in. Ancient Hebrew, a dialect I didn’t quite understand, lined the walls and I could smell the scent of burnt bronze and incense.

A voice echoed around the bend ahead of us. I peeked around the corner.

A figure, well over seven feet tall, was holding one of the creatures by the throat. He was a man dressed all in middle eastern garb of silver and gold thread. Steel sandals wrapped around his feet, coils of braided alloy wrapped around his calves. His skin was burnished bronze, glowing red with internal heat. His eyes were twin lanterns of white hot light and crimson flame shown through the spaces between his golden teeth. Steam clouded his face in a sharp Arabian goatee.

The creature squirmed in vain, its skin sizzling against the hand that held it. The bronze figure was speaking to it in a series of clicks and inhuman throat noises. The other one was scattered across the room in a multitude of burnt and broken pieces.

Suddenly, the creature’s eyes began to glow, the presence I had seen twice now sinking into his body. His skin bulged and something in the air changed as the power filled the room.

The figure laughed. Then he reached down the creature’s throat, shoving his hand into its mouth until it was elbow deep. There was a horrible tearing sound followed by the horrendous sight of the figure pulling the creature inside out like it was a sock. He threw the bloody carcass against the wall where it made a wet slapping sound, the light fading from its body.

I sat dumbfounded. The figure had cast aside the power like it was nothing and pulled a curse out of the air without breaking a sweat.

He dusted his hands off. The blood sizzled against the bronze skin, filling the air with the scent of salt and brine.

He looked up, golden teeth spread in a wide smile, his gaze fixed directly on me. His fingers snapped, the sound like two pans being banged together, and we were standing before him. His thick arms were folded over a broad chest, radiating heat like an oven.

“Damn,” I said.

“Come now,” he said, “you are guests in my home. I wouldn’t dream of letting you leave without accommodating you.”

“What about them?” I asked, pointing at what was left of the creatures.

“They were rude,” he said cheerily. “But then, you know that. You’ve dealt with them before.”

The figure walked around the small pedestal that stood in the center of the room. Atop it rested a small bronze incense lamp, more Hebrew inscribed in the hot metal.

I holstered Abigail, motioning for James to do the same. “It wouldn’t do you any good anyway,” I said in response to the uncertain look he gave me.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“James,” I said, “Feast your eyes on one of greatest powers the world has ever seen. You are looking at a Djinn, in the flesh.”

“You flatter me, Sorcerer,” the Djinn said, nodding with a smile.

“So what now?” James asked. “We get three wishes?”

“Not exactly,” the Djinn said. He caressed the lamp. “I must ask a boon, a favor, first.”

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“Millennia ago the Wise One ensnared me,” the Djinn said. “He used my power to further his kingdom, but after he fell, this city was forgotten. Abandoned. I would ask for you to release me.”

“Whoa,” I said. “The Wise One? You mean Solomon?
King
Solomon?” I looked around, taking in the temple, realizing what this meant. We were in one of Solomon’s cities. Solomon the Prophet, Sorcerer and King, one of the most powerful figures of the ancient world.

The Djinn gave me a nasty smile. “The very same. He bound many of my kind…and worse things. I have been trapped in this chamber for longer than you could comprehend.”

“So what?” I asked. “You want me to wish you free?”

The Djinn laughed. “Legends and fairy tales, Sorcerer. The Wise One knew better than to do that.” He held out his hand and a small object, a ring, levitated from the dust. It floated in front of his face and he sneered. “You will use this to break the sigils that bind me.”

“What is that?”

He tossed me the ring. “The Seal of Solomon.”

I caught it in midair, a chill running down my spine as the words hit me. The Seal of Solomon, the talisman by which the ancient king had wrought all his magic. It was gold with a face of clay; no jewel or ornament other than the metal it was made from. My hair stood on end. With it, he had bound the Djinn before me, but other things as well. Angels and the Fallen, Giants and Fay, things that had never been seen and never would be again.

My hands felt clammy, and suddenly I was noticing the heat of the room. “And how, or why,
would I do this?”

“I could kill you,” the Djinn said, the smile never leaving his face. “But that is not our way. Not for those who honor our code. Break the sigil and you will receive a boon.”

“I don’t want one of your wishes, genie.”

The light of the Djinn’s eyes flared, changing to a burnt orange, his face glowing hot. His golden teeth slid into fangs and I backed away as a wave of heat hit me. When he spoke, his voice shook dust from the walls. “Say that word again, Sorcerer. I will feed you your bones.”

I swallowed, trying not to look intimidated. “Your wishes are a trap.” My voice was shakier than I would have liked. “The ancient king knew what he was doing when he left you here.”

The Djinn’s eyes dimmed down, though his teeth were still sharp. “With great responsibility, comes great power. When fools wish for foolhardy things, they receive foolhardy results. I am your friend, Sorcerer.”

“Friend? I think not.”

“Oh,” he said, fiery light shining through his teeth, “you’ve never had a friend like me.” He floated toward me, levitating the ring out of my palm. “Do this thing, and you will receive your wish.” He spun the ring in my hand, sigils and runes playing across the clay surface of the ornament. “And you even get to keep the ring.”

“And why would you do that?” I asked.

He snarled.
“I care nothing for this trinket. Just the sight of it fills me with smoke, dirties my flame.”

“And how did you come by it?” I asked, snatching the ring out of the air. “No way Solomon just let you have it.”

“I am not without my ways, Sorcerer. I still have influence on the outside world, even if it did take millennia to obtain it. What do you think drew you here?”

“And if I release you?” I wasn’t about to unleash that much power without thinking about it. “What then?”

His eyes softened to blue. “Then I will return home,” he whispered. “To my own plane. I do not like this world, Sorcerer. It dwindles my flame.”

I frowned. He seemed genuine, but he’d had a long time to practice. “You could be like a hurricane making shore, an earthquake incarnate. Why should I believe you?”

The creature’s shoulders shook and he said with a sob, “No Djinn has ever come to this plane of his own free will. We have only ever been dragged here, kicking and screaming to fulfill someone’s desires. Wizards, Sorcerers, Prophets…”

He clasped his hands, floating around me. “I swear to you, Sorcerer, on my being, the flame that fills me, on my very power, that I will leave as soon as your wish is granted, and never return.”

I thought about it. I believed him. Djinn were tricky, manipulative, devious. But they operated on a set of rules and boundaries that gave them a rare level of predictability. It might even be safer in the long run if I could guarantee that he left our world.

“And how would I use this?” I asked.

The Djinn smiled. “I will give you the sigil the Wise One used to seal me. Carve it into the clay and you can cast your power over the sigils of the lamp.”