3. Jack
THREE
JACK
“We should have charged them more,” Jack raised an eyebrow to his father, “a lot more.”
“They can’t afford more,” his father whispered back with an identical eyebrow raised.
Father and son crouched behind an ancient tree trunk.
Patiently, they waited to ambush their prey, a band of shadow spirits ravaging the surrounding territory in the Outland.
The spirits had desolated the region, tormenting the locals wherever they went.
What was worse, these spirits didn’t discriminate; they slaughtered whatever they pleased: men, women, even children.
Jack and his father, Marcus, were asked to come to the area to track and dispatch the spirits, to do whatever they could to stop the bloodshed.
The poor farming community banded together, offering Jack’s father all they had to be rid of the creatures.
Jack wouldn’t have given the offer a second thought.
His father, on the other hand, refused all compensation, only accepting food and shelter as payment.
That was the thing Jack most respected, and at times was most frustrated with. His father possessed the ability to always make the right decision. Where his father saw only black and white, Jack saw varying shades of gray.
Now, after days of hunting the shadow spirits free of charge, the father/son tracking team discovered their lair.
It was nestled into the side of a hill ten miles from the nearest farm.
The spirits were smart. They had chosen a homebase close enough to conduct their raids but not too close as to lead the farmers to their doorstep.
Even if the farmers were skilled enough to hunt the spirits, killing them was another matter. Most farmers could defend themselves from roaming wolves or coyotes, things that bled, things that died. Shadow spirits did neither of these things.
Jack held his breath as he looked over the fallen tree.
He counted in silence. There were twenty of the wraith-like creatures.
Most were human size, floating in ghostly indifference this way and that.
The shadow spirits had two options when deciding their appearance: they were able to either take on the form they had just before their death or transform into horrifying macabre images.
It seemed this group was split down the middle.
Half looked almost human, the only hint as to their true nature the ethereal white light emanating from their bodies in their translucent state.
The other half were a ragtag group of grotesque skeletons in varying degrees of decay. One stood out from the rest. She was a tall, gaunt spirit with her lower jaw hanging from her mouth, the flesh around her neck raw and blistered. The other spirits gave her a wide berth.
“What do you think?” Jack’s father asked in a whisper.
“I think that this is crazy. Risking our souls for a group of farmers that are going to pay us in corn and beans.”
“Try again.”
“But…” Jack continued, “since it’s the right thing to do, I say we surprise them.
Kill their leader first then take out as many as we can before they know what’s happening.
With any luck, they’ll break and run. If not, we can finish them one at a time.
Worst case scenario, they rush us, then we kill them all anyway. ”
Marcus’ dark brown eyes twinkled. “I agree. Jack, I remember when you were no bigger than my two hands. Now look at you. Eighteen years old, strong as an ox, and the second-best tracking sorcerer in the Outland.”
“Second best?”
“Well, you know. Your old man can still hold his own.”
“I count twenty spirits. Best tracking sorcerer title goes to whoever dispatches the most?”
Jack’s father gave him a wink, then, in one quick motion, stood up, breaking his cover. His hands danced with the flames of green magical energy.
Jack’s eyes went as wide as the spirits’, and for a split second, time stopped. Spirits processed this new threat. Jack processed the fact that his father had just cheated, a thought that surprised him and made him laugh at once.
Then time caught up to the moment and seemed to speed forward.
Jack stood, drawing from the vast inner resource of his own magical power.
His father began sending blasts of emerald green magic at their targets.
The slack-jawed female spirit, as well as the spirit closest to the father and son team, fell to the forest floor screaming in surprise and hate.
One moment they were howling their frustration to the sky, the next they evaporated in a wisp of green smoke.
Jack fired and hit his mark between yellow eyes, but he knew he was already behind. Father and son quickly and efficiently made the best of the spirits’ confused state. Shadow spirits scattered into the woods in every direction, screaming in shock and hatred.
In a matter of seconds, both sorcerers found themselves alone in the woods.
“I don’t think they’re going to run.”
“I agree. Be ready for close quarters combat. They’re surrounding us as we speak.”
With a quick look, Jack knew what his father said was true. The spirits recovered quickly despite the loss of their leader. Rustling could be heard in every direction as Marcus and Jack stood back-to-back.
“I think I’m winning, by the way. Two to one? Not to mention I got the leader. She should count twice.”
Jack bit back a comment as he caught sight of white light, headed in his direction.
His right arm snapped out in his attacker’s route.
Jack discharged a bolt of green magic as soon as his arm straightened enough to track his target.
The spirit fell. But Jack knew the time for long-range attacks would soon be over.
He heard two more sharp cracks of magic leave his father’s hands, but now their assailants were all coming together. As one, the remaining shadow spirits converged on their location.
Jack reached for the weapons that set both himself and his father apart from all other sorcerers in the Outland.
Firm wood met his fingertips as he crossed his arms to reach over each shoulder and drew the two halves of his staff.
They slid like swords from sheaths. With a practiced motion, he connected the two halves into a staff six feet long.
All the time for thinking was gone; it was time to react.
Jack ran toward the gnashing teeth of his attackers.
He called forth the white-hot energy of magic that lived deep inside of him.
His eyes blazed green with magical fire.
His staff exploded with the same force. Every blow from Jack’s staff hit its mark.
With each strike that landed, a sharp crack echoed into the surrounding woods.
Green sparks flew through the air like light sprinkling rain as Jack and his father went to work.
Spirit after snarling spirit fell, but there was no denying the grasping hands were getting closer.
The last two shadow spirits on Jack’s side lunged at him simultaneously.
The impact of the first spirit made Jack’s teeth rattle.
It took him to the ground. Jack’s left forearm screamed in pain as it was pinned to the ground by the manic creature.
The spirit grinned rotted teeth at him. Jack felt a chill originate where the spirit held him and quickly spread through his body.
If it weren’t for his extensive training and the magical barriers set in place, Jack would be losing his soul in the most excruciating way.
The pressure in his arm and now in his right foot as he felt the attack of the second spirit made him wince.
Realizing his soul was not so easy to drain, the spirits shrieked and sank their fingers and teeth deeper into the folds of Jack’s cloak.
Violently, they began the work of ripping Jack’s limbs from his body.
Steady, Jack, you got this. What would Dad do? Remember: quickly and efficiently, no time to panic. Just breathe.
Staff thrown to the side, Jack made his right hand into a fist. He channeled the magic to a point and brought the crackling green blade up with his right hand and across the throat of the shadow spirit on his arm.
There was another loud snap and scream as the spirit fell.
Jack did a hard sit-up, bringing his magical knife in a wide downward arc and into the skull of his last assailant.
“Jack, are you hurt?” Marcus was at his side before he even had a chance to get to his feet.
Jack stood and examined his arm and foot. The spirits had failed to penetrate either his jacket or boot, but he knew he would have bruises to remember the battle. “I’m fine; are you okay?”
“Yes, looks like we got them all.” Marcus examined the woods around them, where tiny spirals of smoke still wafted upward.
“I know you wish there was another way to release them,” Jack reached down to pick up his staff, “but we did the right thing. The farmers and their families are safe now. Oh, I got nine.”
“Eleven.” Marcus gave Jack a rueful grin. “Twelve if we count the lead shadow spirit twice.”
“No, we're not counting her twice.” Jack chuckled at his father’s comment. “That was never in the deal, and besides, you cheated by starting early. I wasn’t rea―”
There was movement in the bushes around them. Jack crouched with his staff already blazing green. Marcus lifted his right hand toward the sound, ready to channel and discharge a magical beam.
“Not spirits, humans,” Jack said without taking his eyes off the surrounding forest.
“And a lot of them,” Marcus agreed. “They have us surrounded.”
In seconds, men materialized from the woods, soldiers bearing the emblem of the city of New Hope, two steel-gray swords crossed behind an ebony black bat.
There were too many to count. Each soldier wore a black uniform outlined by gray thread and buttons.
Steel helmets accompanied dark metal gauntlets, forearm guards, shin guards, and black goggles.
Every soldier carried a backpack and a long rifle, all of which were pointed in Jack and Marcus’ direction.
Jack had only seen soldiers from New Hope a handful of times. They never looked twice in his direction. Now all the soldiers seemed eager, even happy to have the two men in their line of sight.
There was a tense moment where nothing happened. Then the soldiers parted ranks to allow someone through.
From the badges on his chest and arms, Jack knew him to be an officer. “Please excuse us. We don’t mean you harm. And if you’re willing, we can all lower our weapons.”
Jack looked at his father, who nodded. In unison, they lowered both staff and hand. The officer looked pleased. He turned, motioning to his own men to lower their rifles.
“I’m sorry for the abrupt meeting. My name is Lieutenant Doyle Baker. My men and I have been searching these woods for days looking for you. You are Marcus Walker, the famous tracker sorcerer. This is your son, Jack Walker?”
“Yes, we are.” Jack’s father ran a hand through his thick brown hair. “And what, may I ask, is the occasion? Soldiers from New Hope this deep into the Outland isn’t a very common sight.”
“I’ve been asked by the Queen herself to seek you out and invite you to New Hope for an audience. I don’t know much, but I know whatever the reason, it must be important.”
Jack licked his lips as excitement caught in his chest. New Hope was the largest and by far the most prosperous city in the entire known world.
Every latest invention or breakthrough in magic came from the city.
He heard stories of impossible machines, buildings that touched the sky, and even rumors of creations that sounded beyond reason.
Jack had always wanted to visit the famed city, but work had never brought them even remotely close to the city’s walls.
Marcus looked at his son with a half smile, practically reading his thoughts.
Before his father even opened his mouth, Jack knew what he was going to say.
His father was a man loyal to his country, a true patriot.
If the Queen needed to speak with him, then his father would go no matter what the cost.
“We’ll accompany you to New Hope, but we’ve just finished a job for the local farmers. We need to let them know that they can rest easy. The threat is gone.”
Lieutenant Baker nodded approval as he surveyed the battleground and the burning smell that came with the wafting smoke.
“I’ve seen battlefields with less char. The stories of you and your son must be true.
Please allow me to send one of my own messengers to the farmers.
Queen Eckert was insistent that we get you back as soon as possible and without delay. ”
Marcus nodded to Lieutenant Baker and looked at his son. “Well, partner, looks like your prayers have been answered. We’re going to New Hope.”