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Chapter 9: My team comes face to face with a villain
Thursday the 12th of October, 2006 – Shields Crossing, Ontario
They called him Galaus the Slayer. Might sound a little melodramatic but it was pretty fair for having killed half the council in the late nineteenth century.
There was a large sign at the edge of his property that read, “Stay the F out.” It was underlined by a black arming sword that looked a lot like mine.
Sylvie chuckled and said, “Really? The big bad slayer couldn’t write the whole word?”
The trees were tightly packed, but once we passed the sign,, there was a perfectly round clearing with a little white house in the centre. The clearing was at least half a kilometre in diameter. “Stay on the road,” I told the others as we walked up to the house, “I’d be ready to bet there are traps in the grass areas.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” Grant said, moving more into the centre of the road.
“Do you blame the man? He’s been hunted by Gatekeepers for over a hundred years,” Ursula added.
“That means he’s seen us coming already and he’s overly cautious. We should be ready to protect ourselves,” Sylvie said while zipping up her jacket and tapping the zipper three times. I assumed her fiancée had put some sort of protective magic on it.
“Keep your swords sheathed,” I ordered as we got half way to the little house. “We don’t w—” A streak of dark light flew toward me and suddenly an onyx black sword was being held to my neck.
A man that looked like he was in his nineties but moved like he was in his twenties stood in front of me, holding the sword in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. “I thought the council had finally given up trying to kill me.” Despite living in the woods, he wore a three piece charcoal suit.
“We’re not here to kill you. We’re here to ask you for help.”
He laughed and replied, “You’re either desperate or stupid.”
“Oh he’s definitely both sir,” Sylvie quipped. Her posture was relaxed but it was a little forced. I knew her well enough that she was calculating the risks he posed and what she needed to do to neutralize him as a threat.
“Ha!” he said and added, “Family huh? Interesting. Show me your swords.” His sword and gun didn’t waver. The group all summoned their swords and he relaxed a little. “What about you?” He punctuated the question with his sword.
I summoned my sword in reverse grip, planting its tip in the gravel road and leaning on it.
The man nodded and asked, “Who was your master?”
The rest of the group pointed at me and I sighed. If Lance was a traitor, he’d either framed or tried to kill him and I really didn’t want to say his name. “Please don’t puncture me but my master was Lance.”
“He taught a blackblade? I’m surprised. You must have been very trusting.” He brought his sword and gun down. “What do you want from an old, tired man?” He turned around and started walking to the house.
I took that as an invitation to follow and answered his question, “The Gatekeepers have made a name for themselves as being honourable. I had no reason to doubt him.”
“Sounds like you needed to believe you were chosen to do good.” He paused and took a deep, shaky breath before continuing, “I was the same way at your age. The Gatekeepers were the incorruptible knights. They represented all that was good and trustworthy. But not all of us liked following a strict moral code.
“War was brewing and we knew it was going to be massive. After the Magical community got together and voted to stay neutral, there was a lot of trouble. The wizards asked us to act as peace keepers. The Gatekeeper council decided to not interfere in the war but still keep helping individuals who needed it.
“The goldblades didn’t agree; they thought that we could do more good fighting the war than staying out of it. Lance and the others attacked the council and despite my best attempts I wasn’t able to save them.”
“That’s quite a story,” Sylvie said, looking not the least impressed. She glared at him, obviously waiting for more information.
Turning around to face me, the man said, “You have a lippy one. You’ll have to train some respect into her.”
“Never talk about one of my knights like that again,” I said growling a little. I was going to follow it up with something devastatingly clever but got distracted.
We were close to the house now and something smelled off. I should be smelling grass, forest, and some woodsmoke from the house, but instead I was smelling sulfur and rotten eggs.
I stopped moving and held my hand up in a fist to tell the others to do the same.
“Sylvie, Grant, and Ursula, could you please take out your swords?”
The moment the rainbow swords appeared, the environment around us changed. The perfectly manicured lawn became marshy wetlands, the small house turned into a familiar mansion, and the old man became Luc.
“Oh darn, I almost had you.” He didn’t seem all that surprised. “It’s a matter of time. You’ll come begging me to help you in chapter eleven.”
“What did you do with Galaus?” I asked, ignoring his words.
The devil smiled widely and replied, “That’s the great part. I didn’t do anything. I just tricked your GPS.” To Sylvie, he asked, “When did you know?”
She replied, “Your tongue touches your front teeth after you lie. Your suit is too modern. A hundred year old knight would wear something more vintage.”
“I knew I should have gone with tails.” Luc snapped his fingers in mock disappointment.
Sylvie shook her head and said, “To be more authentic, I’d go with a long black double-breasted coat, a black vest, and a white dress shirt with a bow tie. Don’t forget the bowler hat.”
“That’s awfully specific, wh—” Luc was cut off by a dark blade piercing his throat. Behind him, having appeared without warning, was a large, sixty year old man sporting a bright orange handlebar moustache and dressed exactly as Sylvie had described.
Luc’s body turned to black smoke and floated into the mansion as both disappeared, leaving us facing the newcomer whose blade was now pointed toward me.
With a heavy Scottish accent, the man said, “Pie said you might need some help.”
Read Chapter 10
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