The Southern Trail (Book 4) (3 page)

He was aroused from his revere when he flinched from a sudden streak of fire, one that hit the restaurant and set it ablaze in an explosion of light and heat.  Another sorcerer had come to do battle.

Chapter 4

Marco looked for the location of the sorcerer, and spotted the man when another fireball went streaking across the sky to strike a second building, creating another conflagration on the opposite side of the square.  The men around Marco wiped their brows, and Marco realized that the sorcerer was attempting to broil the Nappaneen force between the two powerful blazes.  He wracked his brain, trying to find a solution, and he realized he had the tools he needed.

Marco wrapped his golden right hand around the finger of his left hand, the finger that spouted water through the enchantment of Diotima.  He pointed both hands up in the air, and released as much power as he could, channeling it through the finger.

A vast river of water seemed to erupt upward, spouting like a powerful geyser.  It flew high into the sky, and dissolved into a falling downpour of rain that fell relentlessly.  It was heavy, painful rain, water that carried its weight back down to the ground, causing the combatants on both sides of the fight to cover their heads and cower in place under the down pour.

Steam rose immediately from the two fires, dark white and gray clouds that billowed outward as the fires were doused by Marco’s efforts.  Seeing the fire dissipate, Marco ended his exertions, and released his grip on his finger, letting the fountain’s water cease to shoot upward.  He was tired from the effort, and tired from the previous efforts, yet he knew there was another sorcerer he had to face.

He needed to strike quickly, he decided.  Before the sorcerer had time to think, while the man was still reacting to the falling rain – Marco would exert his energy and hope that he succeeded.

“Tell the men to start climbing up onto the Acropolis,” Marco shouted at the closest officer he saw.  He turned and took a deep breath, pulled his thoughts together, and then pushed more energy out of his hand, to create another dome of power, and he placed it atop the other sorcerer, entrapping the man and a handful of nearby soldiers.

The crowd of Nappaneen soldiers in the square was scrambling for cover; some were already beginning the hike up the path to the top of the Acropolis, while others were diving into doorways and buildings to find protection from the battle that was brewing between the two sorcerers.  Men disappeared and reappeared eerily among the drifting mists and wisps of smoke that floated away from the two smoldering buildings.

There was open space between Marco and the other sorcerer, and Marco could see the man’s face clearly.  It was the sorcerer Marco had seen when he and Ophiuchus had fled into the Ploutoneion Cave.  The man had floated in the air, and thrown balls of dense explosive energy, he had detonated a shield Marco had erected in defense back then; suddenly, knowing how powerful the man was, Marco had little hope that his dome over the sorcerer would be as effective as the first one had been.

He inhaled deeply, just as the sorcerer created a brilliant flash of light, one that flew out in a wave and dissolved the dome evenly across every square inch of its surface.

“Remember me?” the sorcerer said.  “I am Iamblichus.  I believe we’ve met before, but this time you don’t have a divine spirit with you to save your tail from getting stepped on, do you?”

The sorcerer had supreme confidence, and he walked casually towards Marco.

Marco instinctively raised his sword to protect himself, holding the weapon in his right hand.

“That isn’t going to do you any good in this battle, little boy,” the sorcerer sneered, and he shot a string of black and red fireballs at Marco.

“Help me, spirits,” Marco prayed softly.

“We’re with you, Marco,” a pair of voices whispered, as his sword gyrated energetically.  The metal blade seemed to glow as it moved faster than Marco’s eyes could follow, and it batted away every one of the fireballs, causing them to fly in all directions and explode throughout the square.

“Well,” Iamblichus said softly.  “Maybe you are more than you appear.  You can’t be any less.”

The sorcerer sudden flew up into the air, then fired a steady beam of energy at Marco.  Marco held the sword up to deflect the powerful energy, yet he felt it driving him downward, making his knees buckle.  Iamblichus began to circle higher in the air around Marco, changing his height as he changed his angle of attack, and Marco awkwardly moved around to protect himself.

Iamblichus passed behind an ornate fountain that stood in the center of the square, and as he did, Marco rolled away from his spot, then somehow cloaked himself in invisibility, and rolled further, right up to the base of the fountain.

“Where are you hiding, little boy?” the predatory sorcerer called as he slowed his floating pattern and dropped slightly lower, staring around the square.  He waved his hand, and a protective shield formed beneath him, a glowing disk of energy that he stood upon.   Then he waved his hand again, and a vast, circular wall of energy appeared around the perimeter of the square, a pen that trapped Marco within its confines, while Iamblichus began to fire random energy balls around within the square, exploding buildings and holes in the pavement as he hoped to kill or injure his adversary by chance.

Marco, in the meantime, climbed up onto the square’s central fountain, scrambling upon the dark bronze castings, seeking to reach the top of the elaborate structure.  He reached the top, and waited as Iamblichus slowly cruised through the air.  “I’m going to hit you sooner or later,” the sorcerer warned.  “Let me see you and I’ll make sure it’s a quick, painless end.”

There were sounds in another part of the city, a set of booming explosions.

“Come along child, I have other duties I need to perform, and this is slowing me down.  This hunt is wearisome,” Iamblichus complained as he floated close to the fountain, and fired off another series of explosions.

“Then let’s put an end to it,” Marco said through gritted teeth, as he jumped off the fountain, his sword held high over his head.  He released his invisibility to allow himself to focus, as he flew past the sorcerer on his descent towards the pavement below.  As he became visible, and as he passed the startled sorcerer, Marco swung his sword sideways with a two-handed grip, and sliced it cleanly through the man’s neck, decapitating him.

Marco continued to fall.  He had a glimpse of many things.  He saw the wall of energy around the square fizzle away.  He saw the sorcerer’s head tumbling down beside him.  He saw the pavement rushing up to meet him.  And then he blacked out.

Chapter 5

“Marco, can you hear me?” a woman’s voice called softly.

He wasn’t sure where he was, or why he felt such pain.  The place where he lay smelled musty.

“Marco, they’re out searching for you.  If you can hear me, we need to move you,” the woman told him.

Marco opened his eyes; his vision was blurred, and the room was dark.  There was a single point of light somewhere behind the silhouette of the woman who was bent over him.  He instinctively raised his hand to his mouth and sucked on his enchanted finger, sipping the cool, refreshing water momentarily, then dropped the hand back to his side.

“Oh thank God!” the woman said.  “I was so worried you might not awake.  That was a hard fall to the pavement,” she said.

She bent down and kissed him on the lips, a thorough, familiar kiss.  The lips that pressed against his were full, and soft.  Their taste was warm, and salty, and desirable.

“Pesino,” he murmured.

“Yes Marco!  Yes!” the former mermaid spoke eagerly.  “It’s so good to see you alive, here on the surface of the earth.  And fighting so hard – you’re a warrior and a sorcerer now!

“But we have to get you out of here.  Can you move?   There are people from both sides of the war out going from house to house looking for you, and they’re not far away,” she spoke with urgency in her voice, her face so low and close to his that he could feel her breath on his cheek.

Marco moved his legs and felt them respond.  “It’s a miracle, but I think I can move,” he said.  He felt innumerable points of pain all around his body.

“Where are we?  How are you here?” he asked.

She responded by placing her arms beneath his back, and helping him sit up.

“We’re in the cellar of Asterion’s and mine house,” she answered.

“Oh Marco, it’s so good to see you!   I’m so excited, even if you’re not,” she gushed, and she gave him a light hug.

He suddenly snapped out of his daze, and understood who he was with.

“Pesino!” he gasped.  “Pesino!  You’re here!  Let me see you,” he demanded.

She slipped away from him, then returned with a candle that had been on the table on the other side of the cellar room they were in, illuminating her face in the warm glow of the small flame.

She was as lovely as ever, and Marco searched her face intently, remembering the long trip they had spent together, the hardships they had shared, and the manner in which she had changed and grown, while he had grown in his appreciation of her.

“How do you feel?  Can you stand and walk?” she asked after several seconds of mutual examination.

He swung his legs around, over the side of the table he sat on, then slid off the table, and gasped as his right ankle painfully buckled, unable to readily carry his weight.

“Here, let me help you,” Pesino told him, as she shifted her position.  She draped his arm over her shoulders, then raised up.  “We need to get upstairs; everyone else is waiting up there.”

“Who is ‘everyone’?” Marco asked, as they awkwardly moved forward.

“Kate and Cassius and Asterion,” she answered, as they reached the foot of a stairwell.  “Gawail was with us for several weeks after,” she paused, “after we were separated from you, but he set off to go home when the weather turned warmer.”

They started climbing the steps, one tread at a time, each of them silent, simply soaking in the pleasure of the other’s companionship once again.

When they reached the top, Pesino pushed the door open, and they hobbled up into a dimly-lit unfurnished room.  “This is the back of the house,” Pesino explained.  “The kitchen is right in through there,” she pressed on a door handle to open it, and Marco caught a glimpse of Kate and Cassius looking anxiously at the doorway.  And then, within seconds, he was engulfed in the warmth of his friends, as Asterion and Cassius lifted him off Pesino’s shoulder and carried him into the home, where they set him down on a chair by a fireplace.

Marco felt tears forming in his eyes, and he saw the same in Kate and Cassius’s faces as well.

“I didn’t expect to see you here!  This is so wonderful!” Marco told the pair.

There was a rustling sound behind him, and he turned to see Pesino enter the room, carrying a large wad of cloth.

“Here, get him out of those clothes and put this dress on him,” she said as she tossed the clothing at Kate.  “Asterion, go keep a watch out back.  I’ll look out the front,” she smoothly gave orders, then disappeared from the room, as Asterion did likewise.

“Take your clothes off Marco.  Can you get that boot off you injured foot?” Kate asked, as she stood and held up a woman’s dress in front of her, then shook the cloth vigorously.  “We’re going to disguise you.”

“What’s going on?” Marco asked, astonished.

“The Docleatean soldiers are searching for you,” Cassius answered.  “Pesino and I recovered your body as soon as you fell to the ground fighting the leader of their forces, while there was chaos all around.

“Now, there’s even more chaos in the city.  Those soldiers you sent up to the Acropolis are playing havoc with the Docleatean occupiers, and the invaders from the harbor are making progress,”
Kate added, as Cassius suddenly tugged at Marco’s shirt and began to remove it.

“Some parts of the city are controlled by Docleatae, some are controlled by the invaders, and it appears most of the city is under no one’s control at the moment,” Cassius spoke again.

Marco gasped as Kate pulled on his boot.

“Sorry,” she said.  “Maybe you better do it yourself.”

Marco bent and gingerly wiggled the boot up and down, trying to minimize the pain in his ankle.  The boot came suddenly free in an unexpected rush, making Marco cry out, then look down at the dark, swollen joint.

He immediately placed his left hand finger in his mouth and started to suck on it, withdrawing the water of Diotima’s spring.  He bent low over his lap and dribbled the water onto the ankle to treat it.

“What are you doing?” Cassius asked.

“This water – it will help my ankle heal,” Marco explained.

“Where did you get it?  How does it work?” the former merman asked.

“We don’t have time to talk,” Kate snapped.  “Help him stand up and get his pants off him.  Here’s the dress; hold your hands over your head,” she commanded.

Marco tried to fumble with his pants with one hand while holding the other over his head, as Cassius steadied him and Kate began to pull the dress down upon him.

“I’ll bet you’ve never done this before,” she said as his other hand shimmied its way into the sleeve of the dress.

“Oh, a time or two,” Marco answered, still in a daze from the after-effects of the battle with Iamblichus.

“You’re making that up!” Kate laughed, as she smoothed the front of the dress quickly, then wrapped a scarf over his head.

“They’re coming!” Pesino called as she ran back into the room.  She stopped momentarily to look at him.  “Head to the back door, I’ll meet you there in a second,” she said, then disappeared through a doorway.

“Come on,” Cassius urged.

Marco took a step forward, and felt his ankle bend unnaturally once again, making him wince.

“Here, lean on me,” Asterion said, arriving to stand next to Marco.

“My sword?  Where’s my sword?” Marco asked suddenly.